You Were My Everything, But Now I'm Nothing

The cobblestones of Thomas Street in Bristol, England, were slick with a sheen of rain when I first saw you. The bustle of people hurrying to escape the drizzle faded into a blur as I caught sight of your emerald eyes, glinting like the River Avon under the pale gray sky. I was lost, lost in the depths of those eyes that seemed to harbour an ocean of stories. You, with your lively laugh and your fiery spirit, you were my everything.

We shared stolen kisses under the ancient archway of the Christmas Steps, basking in the glow of antique shop lights. We danced, our hearts beating in rhythm, in the shadow of the Cabot Tower, under a sky painted with hues of orange and purple. The scent of freshly brewed coffee from our favourite café on Park Street, the sound of your laughter mingling with the melody of the rustling leaves in Brandon Hill, the feel of your hand in mine as we strolled along the Harbourside, all these are etched in the canvas of my memory.