The old me died in that apartment living room.
I longed for a way to end this physical life but instead a part of my mental and emotional self died away.
I read back through old words speaking of love and loss, passions and dreams, realizing that I've lost all connection to that person.
He is no longer existent.
I am a shade of him. Finally, lost in monotony.
I no longer feel love or lust.
No dreams, no passions.
Only the grey.
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