The months slipped away, barely recognizable, barely there, and then suddenly it was as if I’d always been alone, like it was normal to pad through the halls without Darren by my side. Calls, messages, each one fleeting, each one hurting as much as it healed. I touched the place where he should have been: beside me, reaching for my fingers, inhaling my scent, losing himself in it. But he wasn't there, not even close. Most of the time, I only had messages to console me. Reading his handwritten ...