It's over. You're gone. I'm getting used to it; bit by bit, the ache of longing in me is starting to fade, smoky and silent.
Come sunrise, I'm going to greet the world with a grin, and a charming bell of laughter.
The thing is, I'm genuinely happy. There is no need to fake smiles, to cough up giggles.
The thing is, I only come undone at night.
