Sajira has been dead for three days. I'm almost dead too. No doctor has understood what was the reason for the death, apart from the fact of the shrewd spider. But what the fuck the shitty virus takes away the most beautiful and special person in your life? Only a monster could do it.
Now Sajira is an angel but it is not enough for me. I would like to kill myself to reach her but I know that I would sin and end up in hell.
Therefore I hold back my pain I guard it and absorb the nourishment from the good thoughts and all the memories of my bride.
I grab the pink dress ... it seems to me from another world ... I don't understand how I could love another woman! How do men who play with women's hearts live carefree? Yet I was one of those. I can't even do it.
A smile was enough to melt my heart. And now an unbridgeable void is enough to kill me.
The winter that I carry inside is the tripled autumn that others see outside my body. Outside of my heart and mind.
My head is about to explode. I haven't slept in a week and I eat very little. If I went maybe I would make a better figure. I could change cities and go back to America. But maybe my thoughts wouldn't chase me out of breath?
When I saw Sajira's pale and at the same time purple face I felt as if the world had fallen on me. As if the world was angry with me for no reason.
I am no longer a man. I'm nothing.