I remember watching as he walked away. Well, I sorta remember anyway. My beautiful sister says I screamed, I don't remember that one. I watched numbly as my mother and sister ran in the house to hold me. I didn't want to be held. I wanted to run, I wanted to fall, I wanted to sink into the earth and let it cover me. I don't know how I functioned, in fact I don't believe I did function. I think I was on auto pilot. On the days following I would just crave normalcy. I would wish to wake in bed, to smell him still there. I wished I wasn't as weak and could just write it off to youth and stupidity. But it happened and I was left in the rubble like the child holding the stuffed thing after the earthquake ended. I finally knew what true heartache felt like. I didn't like it. There was so superglue for this kind of thing.