When Bel drew hearts here and there.

– She was the one! She will always be! – I shouted at William as I closed our bedroom’s door from a single kick. 

– Then go back to her and to hell with your sanity! – screamed William back at me as he tied up his shoes before he left home.

A long silence invaded the room and most of my brain. It had been raining and the windows in our balcony looked damped. In a matter of seconds, my fingers had drawn a heart on the glass and lots of memories stole the moment. 

Do you remember that heart you drew on the dry sand of Klappträsk during that August afternoon? I’m still trying to figure out if you used a branch or one of my painting brushes. Does it even matter? (A voice inside my head interrupts). I suppose it doesn’t. 

Do you remember that heart you drew with the help of a sweaty finger on one of your windows? I’m still trying to remember how many days it lasted there shouting out loud that your love for me was present. Does it even matter? (That voice, once again). I suppose it doesn’t. 

How many more nights will I spend thinking of how you are. How many more nights will I spend trying to revive those warm memories of a summer in 1994. 

Bel, I don’t know if I still love you. Perhaps I don’t.  But I haven’t forgotten you. Cause you were the one and will always be. Bel, my dear Bel. 

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