It's been three years, three months, three weeks and three days since she asked me "will you shut the door behind you, please?"
And I'm still hurting. She was my world.
I, a Feeble-hearted man!
Ours was an unusual kind of engagement.
She did the proposing.
I took off the ring I had gotten so used to wearing.
The warmth of silver against my dark skin,
The faint press of the band around my finger,
The glitter of those seven tiny golden stones, gone.
All there is, is a lasting memory of her.
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