3 centimetres of solitary before laboring

It's been half a year since my last gothic breakfast,i've got cakes in mango flavor,instant coffee and boiled water,marshmellow wrapped with white sugar...none of them bestows me the strength to break through the infinite sorrow,which is still some kind of internal one,has been so firm and stubborn.I drank the liquid in grey,meanwhile it's tasteless.It's worse than shedding my tears.
I wake up my memory as i sence the morning break,but he's somewhat there,together with my index finger,standing still by the bus station that we always farewell.I'm not willing to let go all of the mess,i feel guilty,emptied,irrisponsible if i put an end to what ought not to end so soon.But i never realize what should i continue,oh,it's a catastrophe,somehow you survive for a while.
Before going to the Kafe i listen to World's End Girlfriend again.And after that i was reminded of some fragments of memory,the unconsciousness of being abandoned.I talked to him all through the night,however,when the morning heals the wound of the night,the only connection between the 2 of us,is brutally cut off by the 3.5 hours.