Giving you my heart was one of the worst decisions of my short but exciting life.

And now I am asking for it back, even though you have shattered it in to a billion pieces it’s still my heart.

I don’t understand, when I gave it to you I told you how broken it already was. I was naive then. I’m not now.

You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.

You said that you would always keep me safe.

You ushered me you would mend my heart, not break it further.

I thought I could trust you. You sounded so trustworthy at the time, but now as I look back I realize I should have saw straight through your lies.

The worst part is I wanted to believe you.

Your name is Neal.

Mine is Dawn.

And these are my heart’s worst decisions.

Everyone’s story goes like so.

There’s a beginning, middle, and end.

First, next, and last.

Once upon a time, later on, and happy ever after.

No story ever really ends with happy ever after.

Here’s my beginning, my first, and my once upon a time.

February 14, 2002 1:27am & 38 seconds

I am three minutes and 10 seconds old.

My mother is not at a hospital and she is alone. She holds me there in her arms as I cry my first cries.

I never say my mother’s beautiful blue eyes and black hair again.

She died.

But, not from giving birth to me.

She was 19.

_25 years later_

February 14, 2017 1:27am and 38 seconds

I blow out the candles.

I’m in a hospital, neither am I alone.

A nurse sits by my side watching my every move. And, my last breathe.

Now you know my beginning and my end, my last, and my joyless ever after.

In the nature of a story I must at once tell you my middle, my next, and my later.