Introduction
Where my heart still is, I admit I'm not too sure.
When the sky starts to cry, I become reminiscent and lonely. Although I like to think I've moved on, I can't help but think that I shouldn't have let go, I should've held on tighter.
The beginning was so pure and pubescent, virgin and untainted. When a person is gone, should you miss him or remember him? If you miss him, do you look back at old pictures and cry? If you remember him, do you think of the tone of his voice, his laughter? Do you think back to the conversations between you and him?
Conversations between Us? *Sighs* I need another cup of coffee."
(Sweet Excerpt)
"Tell me a sweet story."
I laugh and pick up the coffee cup on the table. Steam is floating above it as I wave it gently under my nose to take in the bittersweet smell of just plain black coffee.
