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As the World Burns

Writers can be such dramatic creatures. I need more of them in my life, they would understand me. We feel things deeply, the pain churning in our souls makes for the best, most honest pieces we'll ever written.

I'm sitting on the living room floor because my flatmate moved out today with his couch and my heart. It's funny, I didn't realise I was falling for him until it was too late. I spent months on that couch with him, slowly, unwittingly learning to love him. I learnt to watch television again, I started following his shows, even got caught up in a few of my own.

I'm on the verge of tears, always on the verge, never crying. Even as my heart breaks and my soul screams for release, I still don't cry.

I'll get new furniture sometime this week. I should put up a notice for a new roommate soon, he has gone.  He moved to the other side of the city, he has. It doesn't seem like much but I'm dreading not coming home to him everyday, is it still home if he's not here?

I have a report due for work at 8 I haven't begun yet. Two assessments for school I'm only half way through, #teamnosleep can have me tonight. I still have to call my mother, brother and sister back. But all I can do is lay on the living room floor and miss him, pine and mope like I've been doing all week.  As the world moves on,  I'm still somehow hoping I'll hear the key turn and he'll walk in.

Must all good things really end? I didn't see this coming, the month's notice was not enough to prepare me. My father was right, I am naive. How did I think we could carry on like this for ever? People grow, change and move. I suppose I should embrace this too, use it as a point of reflection and growth.

I've heard of unselfish love, the kind that is just happy to love her object without demanding anything, even reciprocation, I didn't believe it existed. I didn't know I'd be capable of such a feat. The world can burn, should burn, from the ashes, a phoenix will rise.

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