Stone Promises

Promises were made. Sometimes, however, they're made to be broken. I was six years old when we met. I think I secretly fell in love with him that very first day, when he saved me from a bully at our bus stop. From that day on, we were inseparable. He was my neighbor. My partner in crime. My best friend. When I was fifteen, his family moved across the country, tearing us apart. Then he had to go and become famous. And rich. And reckless. He became addicted to women, drugs, and money. But I remember a time when the only thing he was addicted to was me. I've spent nine years trying like hell to fill the void. But the huge hole in my heart can't be filled because when he left, he took my heart with him. Now, when I see him through the crowd and the camera flashes, I wonder if he even recognizes me—the innocent girl from his past. He's different now. He even has a different name. When he shows up on my doorstep offering me everything I've ever dreamed of—him—I can't help but recall the age-old idiom: Be careful what you wish for.