When Moments Become Memories

When Moments Become Memories

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It was one of those moments, those rare ones that you know will follow you for the rest of your life. Their effects rippling through your life, with the same magnitude of an effect that a tiny pebble can have on an entire ocean. I suppose the story starts when I was 10 years old, when the happy floating pieces of my existence collided together, not to form something beautiful or joyful, but collided to shatter my world. There were three things that could have happened on that night. One: The car could have hit me. Two: The car could have swerved and continued down the road, in no way impacting my life. Or three: The car, containing my mother could have swerved to avoid me in the road, collided along with the pieces of myself, and shattered every window, bone and heart involved. This is my story. A story of a tragic loss, a loss that shaped who I was, who I am, and who I will become in every way possible. It is a story of how life can destroy you and a story of how life can build you back up piece by piece, until the parts of yourself join to make you whole. It is a story, explaining how to some, the only way to feel whole again is to find someone who allows you to hurt, to bleed and to fall on your knees and feel the pain. And my god did I feel the pain. It is a story about how that one person can shine a light to help you drag yourself from the darkness and hold you tightly so that you don't slip back.
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Magugustuhan mo rin ang

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Moira

Moira ~ A person's destiny ************************************ I was holding the photo tightly in my grasp when I felt a presence behind me. Ace came closer to me and reached around me causing his chest to press into my back. Before I could control myself, a breathless gasp escaped me from feeling the sparks from the places we were touching. Ace didn't say anything, instead, he took the photo from my hand and backed away. I turned around to see Ace walking back to the couch he was just sitting on. I leaned back against the bookshelf as Ace sat down. Looking at Ace, I needed to know. I needed to know why he had a photo of me from before. Why would he have one when he was the one who rejected me? He hated me and yet he kept a photo of me for years. I felt a feeling of loss like I had never felt before. I was confused and hurt. Why did he have that photo? I had so many questions for him. I whispered, not wanting to break the silence but needing an answer, "Why?" One word, three letters, a beginning of a question. Not enough meaning behind it but he knew what I meant. Even if I didn't know what I wanted it to mean. Because in my head, a thousand questions I needed him to answer. Why did he reject me? Why take a picture of me? Why keep that picture of me for years? Why did he choose Brittney? Why didn't he love me? Why was I not good enough? But instead of asking all these questions, I chose to ask one word with only three letters. Because that one word held all my questions in it. It held the pain that I felt. It held the rejection, the hope, and the anger. Ace looked at the picture, "I needed you." ************************************

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