My body convulsed into excruciating sob.
I clutched my sweaters, in the fear that my shattered heart pieces would find its escape out of my chest.
Ah... woman are like that.
Mother once said: a woman can sell her soul for her children, die for husband, but she will go mad for a chance to be loved wholeheartedly.
And the tears of women in love, never run dry.
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October withers and Fall is dying, November is far out of reach - where have I been?
