It was like a candle being blown out: you leaving.
My world has been dark before (it always has), but
At least I had a little flame to give me hope back then.
The smoke from that flame still hovers in the air, like a haunted memory.
That little flame didn't put up a fight.
It didn't refuse to leave.
It was here one second, gone the next.
You were here one second, gone the next.