As time mved on, I began forgetting things. That was my biggest fear: forgetting. I pulled out a piece of paper and drew on i everything I could remember about him, but I fel it was too late. I had already forgotten his last name, where he lived, and what he looked like. I do remeber the way he spoke, so poetic even for a kid, as he told me how much he loved me.
As my life spun out nof control and things became worse and worse, I was forced to think of my beloved Taylor and mourn over his absence.
Moral of the story is: I want hi back, but I don't know where to look. I don' have a last name or even abasic location. In al honesty, I don't even know if he's alive. When I knew him he was suicidatl. He would go to the lengths of climbig onto hi roof and nearly jumped, and grabbing his throat and start choking.
Where can my broken heart start looking?
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