She stared, with empty eyes at the vacant room that used to feel alive. The vacant room that used to be the place where she found comfort. Where she found warmth, where he used to be. She stared now, with disappointment, anger and frustration. Because it was never real. He was never there. He never even existed. She's suffocating, hurting, breaking and bleeding from the inside. Oh how she wished she could've cried. But there's no tears that will come out. The 72 days that they have spent together, was all a lie. It was just a mere hallucination. The 72 days of comfort and warmth, the 72 days of his laughter, his sweet voice, his caring gaze. Gone, like ashes blown by win. Now all she had in her heart is vacancy, a suffocating emptiness with nowhere to hide. 

Frustration. Frustration is the only thing she felt when she heard a sad song but had no one in mind. She felt frustrated due to feeling all these feelings alone, with no one to share, and no one that caused this. She couldn't get rid of it no matter how hard she tried. Those feelings are just there, lingering, overflowing, yet subtle and soft. It took up space, eating her from the inside, swallowing her whole. Again, she couldn't even cry. Those feelings aren't strong enough to push her to do so. She stared again with the same blank, dead, dull eyes at her bright laptop screen, feeling nothing. She's the loneliest person on earth, surrounded with the most crowded voices that grew inside her head. Yet again, with no one ever really connecting to her. 

She wished, oh she wished, that the sadness would just hit like a bus. She thought, it's better to feel something rather than this unsettling subtle feeling that never grows yet never dies. Weak, yet immortal. It's sickening. She listens to another sad song. This time again, feeling absolutely nothing, and thought of absolutely no one. She's suffocating with emptiness. She exist, without never really feeling alive. She's known, but not understood. She's hurting, yet numb. 

She remembers, the first time she woke up from her dreamy unconsciousness, she remembers the distinct smell of hospital that she breathed in, and the bright lights along with the white walls. She remembers how unfamiliar it was. She remembers the ringing buzz in her head, the dizziness, the nausea, the absence of warmth that she was already used to. She remembers how confused she was when she saw the hospital gown that she was wearing and the hospital bed that she laid on. 

"You were on a coma, for 72 days." The doctor said.

Then it all clicked. The puzzle pieces came together and the mystery's solved. 

Her memory traveled back, playing the scene of the doctor's confused face that was mentally photographed, when she asked about him. She remembers her own panic tone that she gushed out, her hitched breaths and her trembling sentences when the doctor asks "Who's him?" 

"I'm sorry but the only people that visited you was your family." 

Those words haunted her, it echoes, as if those words itself knew that its torturing her. And is enjoying it. 

Now that she's finally back to breathing, biologically living, this time it's her soul's turn to dim, decay and finally, died.