I'm Hurt, would the pain ever go away?

It's been two years since we last spoke, too long since we last saw but the memories are still firmly engraved in my heart and mind. It's funny how my heart could still beat faster at the thought of you.

Sometimes, I still want to hate you, more often, I want to hate me but none works.

And As much as it kills me to admit it, I miss you. But, No! I dont love you anymore. No! I dont regret the times we had. No! I dont want you back and Yes! I'm stronger,  eventually,  the hurt healed and the pain faded.

I hope you are happy. I hope you are really happy... God be with you.

Yours truly,
Sandra.

Hi there,  as you must have deduced from the letter above, my name is Sandra and once upon a time, I fell deeply in love with the most amazing person ever (or so i thought) but three years into the relationship, things went sour and we hit the rocks.

The Girl on the Balcony

...My Name is John. This story is about one of my most memorable times in Spain....

It was Thursday, the only day of the week that my teaching schedule left me free. I taught English and Literature in more than in a high school. I was twenty-five and full of enthusiasm for books and imagination.
I was sitting on the balcony drinking Juice and rereading - after a lapse of ten years - The Black boy.
Suddenly i felt someone watching me.
I looked up. On one of the balconies of the building facing mine, at the same height as my own apartment, i saw a young woman. I raised a hand and waved. She waved back and left the balcony.
Curious to know where this might lead, i tried to get a glimpse inside her apartment, with no result.
"This will go nowhere," i said to myself, and returned to my reading.
I hadn't read ten lines before she was back on her balcony, this time with a reading glasses. She sat down on a deckchair.
I began feverishly making signs and gestures. The young woman was reading - or pretending to read - a magazine.
"It's a ruse," I thought. "it's not possible that she doesn't see me, and now she's posing so I can enjoy the show."

I couldn't quite make out her features, but i could tell she was tall,slim with dark curly hair. Overall, she seemed to be a beautiful girl, maybe twenty-two years old.
I left the balcony, went to my bedroom, and peered through the shutters. She was looking in my direction. So i ran out and caught her still looking my way.
I sent her a big, pompous wave which demanded a response. Indeed,she waved back.
After such greetings, the usual thing is to strike up a conversation. But of course we were not going to shout across to each other. So