i was walking today, through the path that we used to go. i remember how often we walked through here. we would go here to talk, to watch the stars, to the see the sun set, to lay in each other's arms silently. i miss that. i miss us. but to you, it's dead.
YOU ARE READING
rip | lee minho
Short Storyin which a girl says goodbye to the boy she thought she knew. [letter/journal form]
