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.