I’ve spent my whole life remembering each and every girl; there were many, and the times we spent together alone. I so desperately wanted to be in love with each and every one. For varying periods of time I thought I was, yet with my maturity lagging behind my age I made so many foolish decisions.
Poor girls left heart broken but with time passing I hope they soon found out I had done them a great favour with my departure. As I could never have lived up to their expectations, better they were miserable for a few days, week or months than to be stuck with such an abject failure.
Karma caught up with me in the end and I was to suffer and understand the pain that any of them may have felt on my cutting them off in such an awful manor before they were to realise they had moved on to surely a better future.
I owe them all a great debt for which I can never repay them, they wrote my book for me but now those chapters have passed, all I have left is an index of the times I loved the best people in my life I could have wished for.
Some chapters, just a paragraph, others nearly half the book, but we all shared such great times and I wouldn’t change that for anything. I miss those times so much, it was as if I had lived many times over, each girl a life time of memories in a book lost in the library of our minds, that fails so miserably to recall each and every wondrous moment.
