I feel cold.
I reached over for the blanket, covering myself from head to toe. Yet I know, at the same time, that it is not the coldness of my body that I seek comfort from, and protection against. It is the one in my heart, emptying away its own resounding beats.
"He was crying on the phone," read the text on screen. "You know that he never cries."
Hardly ever. How I know. And yet it is that knowledge that gnaws at me, biting away slowly at the pieces of emptiness that lies within. A battle I can't fight, a war I can't win.
It's crap being powerless, unable to do anything at all, to shield those you love against the rain of hurt.
Especially if that hurt is like mine.
The cold emptiness within.