“Sometimes, Masha, my eyes open and I know, somewhere in my bones, that I have formed myself to the shape of waking up beside you. Sometimes I smell your perfume on a breeze and wonder how it’s possible that I still know the scent of you so well. Sometimes I wake up with the taste of you on my lips, and I know, Masha, that the only reason you ever gave your heart to me to begin with was because it would never belong to anyone else, and neither of us could ever forget it.”
