You walk into the house. Close the door. Lock it. You drop the keys into the box. Look around.

Something's amiss. Something's different now.

That face. Looking at you. Eyes that used to be soft. You cannot find that something in there that used to look at you. Long for you.

Asleep. In bed. Its different now. Something's amiss now. Little things that start to build up. Little things that start to pile up.

You look. Inside. And its less painful now. Less care now. Has enough anguish finally broken you down. Has enough despair eventually burnt out the flame. A question. If something is amiss in you now too...