Shades of Grey

I loved you so very much. I cherished every moment we spent together. The time you feel asleep on my chest, the heave of each breath intake, like a slow lullaby drifting you away, away, away from me. Into a world inside your beautiful mind, that I could only partially understand. The strong scent of my eggs in the morning filling our small apartment, tangled in the kitchen while trying our best to cook. Your goofy smile I woke up to every morning accompanied by the delightfully tousled brown hair. The way you told me you enjoyed my sickly sweet scent, and how I remember your strong cologne lingering as if it had no where else to go but to bury itself on our couch and rooms. We were too much for the world to handle, and soon they grew envious pulling you away, away, away from me. We tried our best to maintain, we tried so hard. When you left, I began to drift back into the shades of grey. The abyss. Our apartment was a ghostly reminder of what we once had. I can still smell your cologne, but it's faint. However, I never got along to making eggs in the morning, always too busy. And sometimes when I'm alone, I shut my eyes and for a brief moment I am able to relive what we had.