Sixty-eight

For the whole time he was away, making a better self for him, I did not see him. I never once visited him, didn't even send him off. We just one more passionate night with knives and blood before he left. His only presence on me were the scars he carved on my body in the middle of our heated moments.

I did not pay attention to how time flies by so slow without him. I was not used to his presence. Not at all. And why should I visit him? Do I care? Of course not.