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We said good-bye at the corner of Yonge and Adelaide, holding each other for the last time. It took ten years for this day to happen. I looked at the post on the office tower before me; it had these words written: “peace”. The symbol represented our past love and our prayers for the future. We went our separate ways on the busy streets of Toronto. The sun shone strong and bright, my heart was wilting. The loud traffic, like an iPod over damned sleepless nights, could not drown out my sorrow and hope for another try. I turned around, expecting him to come back to me and he didn’t. We were no longer 19 and he no longer loved me. With this end, came the end of the family that treated me as their own and cared for me like a daughter. I went home and cried for three days. That was the end of my first love, the one that was patient and kind with my wounded heart, and who believed in me so much he let me go.

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