Non-Fiction

His departure perseveres. Each jagged second is holding me within. I am helpless against the strange disruption of these paper-thin walls. When he returns will the damage be stark as this afternoon sun? Each day I wait in this solitude and each day my composure peels away more. My weather-toughened skin begins to fail me against the next onslaught. There is no sleep through this overly exposed film. It is a cruel desire to wish he would stay or not go so far away.