A mother and her daughter, visiting on semester break,
are driving to the shopping mall. Inevitably, conversation
comes to, “Have you started back dating? You must make
the effort to resume your life. I understand the devastation
you felt when he broke up with you after dating three years.”
Everyone had expected them to marry, had said them to be
the perfect couple. They were so much in love! Then he found
another he preferred and left… Oh, how could she not see
it coming? Now, a year later, she still listens for the sound
of his voice in a crowd. Her memories bring torment and tears.
“I am slowly putting my life back to normal. I may even date
again soon. I really am about over him finally,” she lied.
“Wonderful! You do seem to be looking better, have lost weight,
taking care of yourself. I knew you’d bounce back if you tried.
Before much longer you’ll have put him completely out of mind.”
Just then they drove under an overpass, one upon which graffiti,
once gaudy and vibrantly bold, had been whitewashed to now be
barely visible from up close. “Did you see that? Well, that is me.
That’s my heart. Try as I might to deny, to whitewash away the
love, his name still remains faintly etched on this heart of mine.”
“Oh, Mother, why can’t you let go after such treatment by that man?”
“Daughter, should you ever have true love shattered, you’ll understand.”
 
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