Clara

Today morning has been more of a robots' programmed morning. I walk up, had a shower, brushed my teeth, smelled Damien's shirt for over ten minutes, cried over the loss of him, sat down on the floor and drowned in thoughts. 

Okay, maybe not robotic. Robots don't cry, they don't smell their mate's shirt and crave him. Ughh! They don't even have mates! Lucky for them, they don't have father's to drag them away from their mates!

My wolf has been off. She is too sad to even communicate with me. Well, for me, I am on the verge of running mad. I haven't been able to pull myself...