Sunday, November 16, 2014


Another 100 word story.

Found an old high school yearbook and started walking down a memory I thought wouldn't be as painful after all these years.

It was my fault.  I let sex get in the way of things:  the urge, the curiosity, the raging teenage hormones.  I ended up hurting her emotionally.  I only realized, years later, just how much pain my being in love caused her.

I moved to the USA afterwards, met up with her again after four years, the love was still there but so was the pain.


*picture is originally from

05/13/2014 (Wednesday)- Reunion

          The last time I saw her was at her wedding.  She was my best friend, my first love, my everything—but I was too selfish, too young and immature.  It had been four years since we last talked, so I was surprised to find an invitation to her wedding in my mailbox.

          She was absolutely breathtaking.  I couldn’t speak up to offer congratulations to both bride and groom, or even when asked for a reason why they shouldn’t be together.

          She looked at me, happy, tears in her eyes.

          That was the last time I saw Joy in my life.