I spot a small cleft on his chin that should be awarded with a whole new set of definitions and adjectives.

She called my name.She called me Mark.I love it when someone uses my name at unexpected times. I don’t know why. But, I just love it.

The news had split his heart in two. One side was filled with her memories and the other side would die with her.

Mark’s words crash on me like a tsunami. I am quaking inside, but my face is the epitome of peace. If I ever get that angry, I might rip something or someone into pieces and not sit seething like him.

It appeared like their pain and suffering were combined feelings. But, feelings never did kill anyone. It was running away from feelings that lead to the absolute death of any relationship.

They were like two sides of the same coin, but with two different meanings and purposes. So different, yet so similar in profound ways.

Death would ease her pain and suffering, but it had succeeded in breaking his heart.

A dying girl.A pining boy.And a whole lot of robbed years.

She was his rock. It was blasphemy to imagine a life without Iris in it.

She always believed love was good and hate was much better. But, indifference would’ve made her a no one.