Never Forget
Amsterdam, Netherlands: March 4, 1945
Dear Diary,
Everything is okay. Everything is going to be okay, because I never forgot and neither did he.
Once I returned home I was at a loss of what to do. I got off the train with nothing but my diary. I was finally home, but what was I supposed to do. I knew my home would be abandoned. I knew that for a fact. So I decided to travel elsewhere. I decided to travel to my childhood place of thinking and writing.
Passing familiar trees on my way to my old school was very comforting. It gave me reason to believe things would be okay. It brought back the wonderful memories of playful friendships and first true loves. It made me think of my family. It sent a tear down my cheek but a smile to my face. I know they are happy for me, that they are watching down on me right now. I love them so much. I hope they can hear that too.
Just one step in front of the other, I'm almost there. As I turn the corner, my rock beneath my tree comes into sight. But there is something off about it. Is there really someone there? Why does someone have to be ther--?
It's a man. It's a tall man with a mop of dark curly hair on top of his head. It's a man with the smile to die for.
"David…"
Everything is okay. Everything is going to be okay, because I never forgot and neither did he.
Once I returned home I was at a loss of what to do. I got off the train with nothing but my diary. I was finally home, but what was I supposed to do. I knew my home would be abandoned. I knew that for a fact. So I decided to travel elsewhere. I decided to travel to my childhood place of thinking and writing.
Passing familiar trees on my way to my old school was very comforting. It gave me reason to believe things would be okay. It brought back the wonderful memories of playful friendships and first true loves. It made me think of my family. It sent a tear down my cheek but a smile to my face. I know they are happy for me, that they are watching down on me right now. I love them so much. I hope they can hear that too.
Just one step in front of the other, I'm almost there. As I turn the corner, my rock beneath my tree comes into sight. But there is something off about it. Is there really someone there? Why does someone have to be ther--?
It's a man. It's a tall man with a mop of dark curly hair on top of his head. It's a man with the smile to die for.
"David…"
♠ ♠ ♠
The End