It's 5am and once more Lucy is awake staring at the ceiling trying to make sense of the mess that is her life. She knows each individual crack and bump having had the opportunity to study the ceiling in great depth despite only living in the place for five months
Five months, 3 days and 17 hours to be exact. She sighs and feels the tears begin to prick her eyes. When she wonders will it get any easier, when will she not yearn for his arms to be around her, when will she not long to see his smile, hear his laugh and feel part of a couple.
She knows the answer, of course she does. She's not stupid and if there had been any hope of him being the man she wanted him to be she would still be there. But still her heart hurts.
She tries not to think about how foolish she was, how naively she believed his lies, but she cannot help still loving him and that makes it so difficult to move forward. She wants to. She wants to be anywhere but in this pit of despiar which feels as though it wants to suck every ounce of happiness from her body, an emotion vampire.