One dark evening in another universe:
Car. Door. Footsteps.
Arrives.
Running out to meet him.
I missed you.
What's that look on his face?
A letter.
But why?
Nothing.
He gets in the car.
Read it and call me.
Leaves.
I read it sitting on the floor.
Realizing what just happened
I cry.
He's gone.
I just used 55 words to describe how if felt having my heart broken when I was 16. If I think back really hard, this is how I remember things. But since I am a lot older now, the thing I remember the most is the love. The happy moments. The passion. The excitement. I remember kissing. Learning about love. And life. And that almost everything in life seem to happen for a reason. My heart healed, obviously. Eventually it did. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?
