He was gone. It was like he wasn't even
here. Not a piece of him was left in our room. There were no
reminders of the love I found in the room we shared. The room
we once shared. The only thing that remained
was the faint smell of him and the memories we created. He had
left the room empty. He took everything. He even had the audacity
to take my heart. My mother warned me about this.
"People are cruel. They'll make you think they
love you." she'd say, "Then
they'll go and leave you nothing but a lost heart and faded
dreams." So I sat there in our room and stared at
the bed and I thought of him. I stared out the window and I
thought of him. I stared at the lines on my hands and I thought
of him. Because all the memories we made were everywhere and
everywhere I looked I saw the memories he'd forgotten to take
with him.
