Epilogue

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Being one of the year that will be graduating in a couple months really is something else. I am just watching another moonrise from my open window from my dorm room tonight. The evening breeze washes my face with a fragrance I didn't know would pass my way again. Our paths never crossed now but I can remember her still; her face, the scent of jasmine on her hair and the lingering softness of her hand but it made no difference now. The void that she left in my core will never mend. She was now a thing of the past, something I could see but no longer touch.

It seems that there's no such thing as sincerity anymore because there's no longer anybody worth enough to believe. It is said that when stray dogs are fed, they soon die of starvation. They die because of the false hope that who threw out the scraps of food at them would forever be there to feed them. An act of kindness turned fatal. A mistake. Those who have been subjected to what I've been through would know how it feels; and to those who haven't, I can only imagine.

The wind approached me once more with wafts of scent that told me she was somewhere near, seeing the same things that I did. I saw her lone figure among the crowd of students and smiled pensively as my nostrils filled with a scent I'd long since forgotten — the perfume I gave her one cold night of December.

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