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I'm in my room, reading the leter again. I've read it so many times already that I'm surprised the words haven't been worn away. Theres a rip all the way through the middle of the paper where I tore it in half. I fixed it again with spellotape but it's still there. A scar on the paper, like the one on my heart. Niether of us will ever be the same again.

I wonder how long it takes to forget what someone looks like. A week? A month? A year? Or is that something I'll never forget?

I can't keep doing this, I tell myself. I have to put it in the past.

But I can't. There was so much left undone, so much left unsaid. I need closure but I don't think I'll ever get it. Even if I start seeing someone else I'll always be looking for him to come back through the door. And all because he couldn't say goodbye.

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Angelina Johnson

August 2010

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