“Every day stole away more of her presence, leaving in its place faint wisps of memories devoid of color, scent, and sound.”
“I stole her heart away and put ice in its place.”
“...A madeleine moment - a sound, a scent can incant her presence...”
“I miss sunrise even more. The green scent of dawn in the forest? The color blushing back into the world, different every day.”
“It doth not hurt", whispered a faint voice, "She will take you life and all you are and all you care'st for, and she will leave you with nothing but mist and fog. She'll take your joy. And one day you'll wake and your heart and soul will have gone. A husk you'll be, a wisp you'll be, and a thing no more than a dream on waking, or a memory of something forgotten.”
“...I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists...”