+john is nineteen
March is a sad month for everyone. There are never any smiles, and no one really talks.
I lock myself up in my room and try to think about anything except for her.
Last year, on her birthday, we walked to her grave with a bouquet of flowers. This year, I'm not going with my family and her father.
However, I still get dressed in black.
I'm still going to visit.
How can I not?
YOU ARE READING
letters
Romancethey were five when they started writing. they were seventeen when they stopped. he was eighteen when he read her letters. he was nineteen when everything fell apart. +cover creds to abhaya ♥︎
