“Come back to me,” I whispered, clinging desperately to her hand. Nothing. “Fuck, baby, come on,” I pleaded softly. I rose from my chair and dropped to my knees in front of her, both my hands cradling her face. She stared straight through me, her pretty eyes dull in comparison to the sparkle and brightness that they used to have. I released her face and took her hand, flipping her palm up. I placed my finger on her palm and began to write, desperate to get her to acknowledge me. I miss you.
