Creative Writing: Arkansas Hotel Room

Satisfactory Essays
Lately I've been wondering what you decided to do with my memory. The last digital images taken in that Arkansas hotel room. I wonder, because despite me saying that I wanted to see them, I did not. Ever since I can remember, I've craved your attention. I loved to feel your eyes on me. And I found them there more often than not. You shaped, sculpted, however you want to put it, you molded me. Made me into a vague mystery unneeding of explanation, in case anyone you valued cared to ask. Someone worth more than me. I sincerely wish I had known that the days would become weeks, that the weeks would become months and the months become five whole years before you'd decide to do what you did. Between all of your sickness and your moving
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