Christopher remained seated in his chair for a long time before he pulled out his diary and started writing. Each phrase conveyed his feelings.
'Abigail, my love, where are you? Every corner of this room, every memory we shared, reminds me of your absence. The sound of your laughter, and the warmth of your touch, echo through the silence, haunting me with their absence.
How did I let you slip away from me? How did I allow the forces that conspired against us to tear us apart?
I yearn for the moments we spent together, the stolen glances, the whispered promises, and the depth of our connection. I was naive to believe that time would always be on our side and that I could hold you in my arms forever. Now, the clock keeps ticking, each second brutally telling me that you are not with me.
