But I was still alive, and in my book, where there's life, there's hope.

I met someone new after we broke up.  He didn't give me butterflies like you did.  He doesn't make me laugh like when I'm with you.  I can only feel a little love from him.  how long has this been?  are you okay?  do you remember me?  I hope you still remember me as I continue to remember every detail of our story.

In March the soft rains continued, and each storm waited courteously until its predecessor sunk beneath the ground.

Written By John Steinbeck

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links