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Longing
Via, Age 15, Huntsville, AL

It was a cold December night when you kissed my soul. It was a hot summer night when you whispered into my heart. It was a windswept morning when you left. This is all so new to me; I don't know how to handle it. I've never felt so much pain. You took my innocence and my soul with you. Sitting in a broken chair with notes and letters we wrote. Thinking of how we could never be together as one, ever again. Arising from that rusty old chair and descending downstairs to the living room where old cobwebs lie on the couches and dust lies on every inch of wood that can be found. I ignore where the memories lie, turn around, and walk outside to the porch and look at the bleak sky and remember all those nights we lay on the pavement of the driveway and discussed the most random things. Those were the pleasurable times. The times when we had ear to ear smiles on our faces every time we laid eyes upon each other. Walking from the porch away from the house we both shared, I walk down the secluded road with letters in one hand and a French Press Bag in the other. A knit hat rests on my head, there is a scarf around my neck, and the necklace you gave me for my eighteenth birthday is settled under the scarf. The wind is blowing and I see that rain is about to pour. I hurry to your doorstep. When I make it, I softly press the doorbell with my fragile finger...there you are, looking flawless as always, but I can see pain in your eyes, like you have been crying as well as I have been. You ask for me to come in to talk. As I step in, I see the old picture of us situated on your coffee table. You haven't put it down like I have at my home. You lead me to your sette, and as I sit, you lean over to whisper into my heart the words that I fell for the first day...

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