His empty soul occupied the rooms of their house. The carpet in the corner held the place where she once sat, legs stretched, guitar perched on her lap and wicked grin painted across her lips. He remembered watching her there, remembered how he felt that day. Wondered what went wrong.
There were songs that reminded him of her voice, of the days they spent together. Everything reminded him of her, really. Sometimes he thought about emailing her, trying to rekindle something. More often than not he resisted. Sometimes he gave in.
These empty nights with his empty soul expanding to touch the corners of his dark rooms were the nights he could hardly bear it. Fingers stroked his keyboard as words escaped, words he usually choked on. They danced like flames, lighting the room, filling his soul with a warmth he missed.
He selected all of the words on the page and pressed delete. Again.