i. You still remember the words she said the night she left. She had just returned home from a party, wearing a red dress that didn’t match her pink shoes. Her hair was wet from the rain and she looked like someone you didn’t know. You asked her how was the party and she gave you a look that you didn’t recognize. Then she said, slowly, while her hands were reaching out to hold yours, “I’m not happy anymore.” and you asked what she meant when she said she wasn’t happy anymore. With a final look in her eyes, she said the words with such clarity, “I don’t love you anymore.”
ii. Every time you go out now and see someone wearing a red dress similar to what she wore that night, you stop. You stop whatever it is you’re doing. You catch your breath, clutch your chest, and pray quietly that it’s her, God, please let it be her. But that someone will turn around and it’s not her and somewhere between relief, regret, and misery, you continue what you’re doing and you carry on with your life. Just like how you did when she left.
iii. When the scars don’t heal, the pain doesn’t fade, and every night you go to bed, looking up the ceiling and thinking, where did I go wrong?
iv. It’s true love when it is just **** too late.