"She was still. She wasn’t going to cry, nor was she going to call him. She was strong. She was okay. But sometimes she missed him. She missed how close they were, the pure joy she felt when they were together, the way he made nothing else matter. It was a hollow sadness; a sadness that she knew would someday dissipate, fade. And she knew she would forget the way he made her feel, the jokes they had, the memories. And then he would just be another boy. Maybe that was the hardest part, knowing that he was once your everything, but someday he’d mean nothing. The feelings would be gone. Letting go. That’s the hardest part."

From an old story of mine (via meggygrace)