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I did, where I went to get rid of the pain, the sensation I was
losing everything I knew and loved, I'd come back to that same
place. I'd stare at the photos on the wall, the anchors to my
past, everyday reminders of the hardships of life, and HIM.
Incidentally, I was doing just that, the cosy, dreamy,
otherworldly swirl of familiar posessions, things I could
associate with strong memories surrounded me. And I thought of
him. What was he doing right now? Where was he? And WHY did I
let this happen? WHY? I'd never been one to look back and
regret, punish myself for making the wrong decisions, for making
terrible mistakes that would later make me miserable. But now?
It seemed to me that a lot of my time was taken up staring up at
those photos. Just wondering, wondering how things would have
been.  Submitted:Oct 8, 2010    Reads: 58    Comments: 0   
Likes: 0     Vivienne's POV:  Baby, there used to be this boy.
Well, he wasn't really a boy. He was