Prologue

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.