I’m not ready to forgive you, because I know that you’re the reason I’m stuck in the past. I’m walking. I don't remember getting here and all around me is the glass of a broken hand mirror I hold, and blood. Where did it come from and how did all this originate in this simple mirror? I look closer at the shards on the ground. I pick up a shard, and see a face I’d forgotten; the face I see is yours. You look so nice that I can’t help but smile from the Irony. I couldn’t stop myself, as I picked up another one. It has your face on it again. I remember this memory you were yelling; I didn't know what I did wrong but still I still said sorry; “sorry means you won't do it again,” do you remember saying that? I do, so I stopped saying it but you said “you better apologize”. I felt lost, so I just didn’t speak at all. You yelled at me for that too. I have a question: what was I supposed to say? Everything I did was wrong. I’m bleeding again. The blood is running down my hand into the shards below adding more and more to each shard. Why am I still here? I see the exit. I should leave, but my feet won’t move. I look out the door toward my freedom. The people I love are living their lives in the present, but here I am lost in the past of mine.