47 parts Complete MatureWednesdays weren't at all remarkable before her. That restaurant that plays pretend, the corner of the street where she fell off her bike, the most hated tailoring shop, the park, and everything else in between were just places before her. Stories were just stories, and the past was just a kaleidoscope of images until she came to prove them wrong.
Time passed, we kept going, moved on, and left the places.
And even when she leaves, I'll still be right there awaiting her return. Because that's how it goes. I wait right where she left and move from there.