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It was the late nights alone on his bed in a hotel room far away from home that made him feel the loneliest. He could deal with it during daytime where his schedule and band members would keep him impossibly busy, but during the night was where he had nothing to occupy him. He was alone with his own thoughts which, without hesitation, always drifted to the beautiful woman he loved.
The woman that used to lay in his arms, steal the blankets, take his food, tease him and always managed to make him smile. His woman.
The woman he let go.
Not for the first time did he regret his decision, it was a reoccuring theme, and yet he made himself suffer as he shifted through the pictures on his phone. Pictures of her.
Some were made while she was aware, striking a pose even, others were taken unaware, some while she was asleep or concentrating on her studies.
As he laid there on his bed, a tear slipping from his eyes, he couldn't help the fierce feeling of self-loathing filling him. God, he missed her.
But it was for the best. He couldn't risk her getting hurt again, not because of him. Not because of his life.