Prologue
The Things That I HearPrologue
The Present
I was clutching a photo of someone, crying heartily as I released my tears of regret.
Never should I have let her go.
I caused it.
About a month ago, I came across this scrapbook filled with pictures and letters.
It was from about fourteen years ago back when I was twenty six.
I don't think I should've ever opened it.
Because as soon as I did people started talking to me.
They told me their stories and experiences with me.
Maybe that's why I'm crying right now.
I heard her voice again.
Calm but powerful.
It was beautiful. She was beautiful.
She told me to come back but I knew I never could.
I thought I had moved on from her but I guess not.
But as I clutched her photo in my arms, she told me our story.
So let me tell you the things that I hear.
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