The saddest part about reading a good book is when the stories come to an end. You know it's coming, you can feel the pages thinning out as you wait for the inevitable. Losing you was like reading the last page to my favourite book. I tried to hold on to the words but they slipped through my fingers the way words sometimes do. And though I saw the end before it came and I knew I would have to put you back on my shelf eventually. I still didn't know what to do with my hands after all that time getting used to hold you. I read dozen of books since then but I still wear the paper cuts from the time that we loved.
