Every waking moment burns with an inconsolable feeling of nostalgia. Every second, every tick of the clock whispers his name.

He throws his head back laughing, his deep blue eyes reflecting in the light of the auburn sunset. He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and kisses me with a passion unmatched by any other. The electricity could power the looming city which surrounds us; the fire could single-handedly burn down the amazon. The sounds of the city all seem to stop, as if the world is watching. His smile brighter than the moon, his eyes outshining all the stars, now visible as he breaks apart from the kiss. Magic. The only word I can think to describe it; this moment, right here, on the rood of this San Francisco apartment building, the Sunday sun setting with the goldens, pinks, auburns, oranges, and yellows that must only be visible in heaven. But maybe, that's exactly where we are.

The picture to my right was taken on the day of our wedding. Standing on the beach, my dress cascades down my body and his eyes gaze into mine with the intensity of the interrogation of Cain.

"Natara and Mal have prepared their own vows," adds the minister.

Mal begins, "You are my home, and I am yours. I am only alive; I am only whole, when I am with you. You are the dawn to my night, the breath in my lungs. You compose my every heartbeat, dominate my every thought. You are my inspiration, the magic in my life. I promise to laugh with you and always protect and cherish you. I promise to love you. I promise to walk hand-in-hand with you, wherever the road may lead, for as long as I live."

But no one expected the road would end so abruptly.

"Natara Fallon?"

"I am so sorry," is all the doctor needs to say before tears are stinging my cheeks. I bury my face in Neha's shoulder, who has no idea how to react. She pulls me into a tight hug, whispering consolation into my ear. But nothing matters anymore. Nothing.

Once again, I've reached the bottom of the bottle. Staggering to my feet, I pick up the wedding picture and shatter it against the wall. I then collapse once again, my body racked with tears. My hair sticks to the tears coating my face, the glass on the floor cuts into my skin. But I feel no pain. The ache of my heart is far greater than anything I have ever experienced or could ever experience. For a few hours, sleep will come. It won't be peaceful; it will be plagued with images of him and with nightmares. Then I'll rise from that toxic state, and the nostalgic, alcohol-dependent cycle will begin all over again.

So, review replies for "The Signs"

Katlana Child: THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THAT MEANS TO ME! YOUR REVIEW MADE ME SMILE LIKE CRAZY!

The Beautiful Filth: Thank you so, so much, and I'll try to make the stories longer in the future :)

HeyimAngel: Thank you!