memories

The door slammed closed behind her as she stepped through the doorway into the hall which was lined with pieces of memories that she sought so hard to bury within her, or to erase entirely. Coming here only served to undo all the progress she had made. Would she never be able to forget, to move on? There were many chapters in this book called life, and now was the beginning of her new chapter, yet still she kept turning back, rereading, over and over the lines which had been her life, defining who she was and all that she had become. She stood still for a moment, looking around as though in surprise. In some ways, she was seeing everything anew, from a different perspective, and yet somewhere deep inside her, there was the urge to see each and every piece as a piece of who she was now. After all, could one really change oneself so much that the end result was so far removed from the beginning? It hurt to see it, to feel the happiness and the sadness this life –or that life- had brought her. How many times had she sat here and laughed; how many times had she cried? She was coming home, and still she felt like she was walking into someone’s home uninvited. What would assault from the next corner? She let her eyes drift down the hall, along the pictures which lined it, reminding her. And there they were, frozen in time, smiling for eternity, together. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered that day, so long ago, as she remembered it all. How had she lost her best friend? She had made her choice, and the consequences were dire