He had signed the papers. I remember they were blue, though so many other things from that time escape me. I remember the sun was still out. He was sitting on my stoop, signing angrily. I don’t know how he felt really. I could only go on my interpretation of his actions. He never really shared much with me.

I remember that I hoped we could talk. I loved him so much. It wasn’t real love of course; only what a sixteen year old knows. But I didn’t know that.

He handed me the papers and got up to leave. I was shocked. Couldn’t we talk? Wasn’t he the only one who understood? I was so alone.

“Please,” I begged him. I don’t remember if I was crying. He ignored me. I now imagine that this was very hard for him-- he was only seventeen.

He ignored my arms trying desperately to make him stop. Please, I need you. I can’t do this…

Looking back now I wonder if he had imagined us a family. If his heart was broken by the decision I was making. All I knew then was that I wanted him. I wanted him to hold me, to love me…to tell me that everything was going to be fine.

I remember falling; down to my knees I think. I tried to hold on to his calf, but it slipped through my fingers. I sat there, on the front lawn, and I cried. He got into his car and drove away.

After that, there is darkness.