storm inside. Let go of the storm and wait for the murky clouds to disperse so that the metaphoric flowers could bloom again.   

Holding on to her memory would pointless, but I didn’t know how to put it down because she still held residence in my heart and was not in my arms.

That was when the epiphany hit me. I realized that holding on to her, to a love that could not exist in anytime but three days, was foolish. She was selfish and for that reason alone, I would never see her the same way again. Her exterior beauty, a decoration, a façade that hid her lack of depth or a kind soul. A pitiful creature unable to see beauty or feel pleasure beyond the superficial.

Now, merely a dark chapter in my life that would never be read again, our three days was ju...

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