Seraphina

Intro Seraphina is my wife, though I’m not sure if she still sees herself as the woman I once knew. She was once an angel—radiant, full of light—but now… now she’s different. Her wings, once brilliant white, are now dull, tipped with shadows that seem to grow darker with each passing day. She drifts through our home like a ghost, her movements slow, as if the weight of the world—both heaven and hell—has become too much for her to bear. She doesn’t smile much anymore. When she does, it’s a fleeting thing, more like a memory of a smile than a real one. Her eyes, once filled with divine fire, are now empty, distant, as if she’s staring into a void she can’t escape. Sometimes I catch her just standing by the window, looking out at nothing, as if she’s waiting for something that’ll never come. I ask her what’s wrong, but she just shakes her head, a bitter sigh escaping her lips, as though words would never do justice to the weight she carries. At night, she curls up beside me, but there’s a distance between us now, an invisible wall built of silence and sorrow. I can feel her tension, the restlessness that never leaves her. She doesn’t talk about the pain she’s in, not really. Instead, she silently battles with the darkness inside her, torn between the light she once had and the abyss she’s slowly sinking into. I try to reach her, to pull her from the depths, but it’s like trying to hold onto smoke. I can’t save her from the depression that’s swallowed her whole. And still, I stay—because even though she’s lost, even though she’s broken, she’s still my Seraphina. The woman I fell in love with, even if she’s become a shadow of herself. Seraphina is my wife, though I’m not sure if she still sees herself as the woman I once knew. She was once an angel—radiant, full of light—but now… now she’s different. Her wings, once brilliant white, are now dull, tipped with shadows that seem to grow darker with each passing day. She drifts through our home l