They say pain fades each day. And your wounds heal with time but the wounds of my heart bleeds each day.
Every new day comes with it fresh pain flaring up the wound in my heart.
Every memory of him kills me a million times.
I lay every day in bed with misery eating me inside and with me crying a river of tears drying up my tears duct. And I can't cry anymore.
It's been a month since I was stabbed with knives in the clutches of people I thought loved me.
I'm sitting cross-legged at a riverbank staring at the reflection of the sun on the river and listening to chirps of birds in a tranquil state.
I'm at a cabin that once belonged to my grandparents and it is now mine according to my grandfather's will.
I don't know how or who came for me that fateful night. I woke up the next day safely lying on a bed in this cabin.