It had been two months since Sage left. He didn't just leave me, he left town without any trace. There was no way in which I could contact him anymore. His mansion once again looked like when the old widow died.
Even the pool was emptied a couple of days before by a group of professionals. The beautiful flowers whose colours decorated the large garden, and whose scent once played with my nostrils, were dry with the sun. Grass grew above them and dust gathered in the gazebo. Sometimes I'd be sitting under an orange tree outside and see my grandpa throw some water there when watering our plants. He felt my pain.
I lost a lot of weight and my hair got slightly damaged with lack of care. I lost interest in all the activities and my summer was dreadful. Most of the time I just spent alone in my bed either thinking or sleeping. The only positive thing was that my art was thriving. But that was no surprise, the most beautiful pieces of art were inspired by pain - poetry, paintings, music...
I got accepted at a university in another city and getting away from everything in autumn was the only way for me to move on. Even though I wasn't ready to. My brother and Harry tried to cheer me up but for me it was just pressure. I was drained of energy and whenever I entered the room the mood would sulk.
During the hot summer nights with crickets singing outside and laughing voices belonging to young people somewhere in the distance, I sat by my bedroom window. I sat there, staring at Sage's house. It was as though I was waiting for just one light to turn on inside or hear the engine of his car. I sat there and waited, but Sage was long gone. And thinking that one day he would come back, was such a chaotic way of hope.
Please proceed to the author's note Xo