That Year

I remember that year. It was a good year. So many adventures, fascinating things, things that mattered, things to look forward to. I came home for Christmas that year, with beautifully wrapped gifts. I liked to think of the colorful papers, glittery ribbons, and the overall festive package as my year end holiday, wrapping the priceless gift that was my life all year long.

I remember that year. It was a good year. It really seemed like life had been too good to me. People were complimenting and telling me about how good I looked. Maybe people at my hometown hadn't seen me in a while, or maybe their eyes played tricks on them. I didn't really care. All I could think about was, if they liked how I looked, hopefully you would too. After all, no one loved me like you.

I remember that year. It was a good year. That was the year I did well on my job, that was the year when I got to travel a lot, that was the year people told me that I looked pretty, that was the year people told me I finally slimmed down, that was the year people said I got a perfect haircut. That was the year I felt really good.


That was also the year when you decided you didn't need me anymore.



I remember that year.