She’s gone. June is gone—and now the only comfort I have left is the hope that all of her dreams come true. I sit collapsed on the floor with my head in my hands, hating the sob that pours out of me. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear my chest caving in, because there’s no sound more painful than a breaking heart. So I cover my ears. I cover my ears and let myself break. A tragedy occurred, that much I know. I just don’t know if the tragedy was in her leaving me… …or loving me.
