Addiction.

She goes to tell her balcony. It's raining.
She is holding a picture in her hand. Of them. Happy, smiling and way too much in love.
But now, things are different. There aren't hugs now, or I love you's or those out of nowhere kisses. It's just her. Alone. It's hard to believe it's over, but the truth remains the same. No glasses of whisky or boxes of cigarettes, could change the truth. He was gone. And now it was time to accept it.
A lot of tears had been shed, a lot of phone calls had been made, a lot of I miss you texts had been sent, but now it was time to accept the truth. It was love, in the beginning, which changed to want and now it was just an addiction, which she had to get rid of.
Few raindrops fall on her cheeks, and so does her tear drops. She realised it was just her wanting, maybe. She was used to him. His phone calls, his texts, and everything related to him was a weakness for her. But she wasn't going to be weak anymore. This addiction had to stop.
She looked at the photograph and tore it, although the memory will remain somewhere in her heart, but it was a start.
A start to letting go of things. A start to stop her addiction.