Prologue.
He was a liar.
Our first conversation he lied to me. He said he was from California.
I knew he was lying. He knew I knew he was lying.
His American accent was terrible, he was from England.
I knew he was a liar, I just didn’t know he was a thief.
He stole my heart.
A liar, I knew. A thief, I found out. A heartbreaker, I had to learn.
I guess they go hand in hand. He lied to me about who he was, he was a thief, one who stole my heart but he gave it back.
In pieces.
Like a heartbreaker would.
He broke me beyond repair but I can’t forget him. He gave me a taste of love and then took it away. He made me cry a well and then pushed me in it.
He was my first love and no matter how much I want to forget him I can’t.
He’s forever imprinted.
YOU ARE READING
Forever Imprinted.
Historia Corta. "You said you loved me." "Yeah, I lied." In which his memory is forever imprinted in her heart and mind. [Edited by oldpeopleburning]
