He. Was. There. Sometimes she thinks of all the things that didn’t have to be. About how he told her a story, and how she wanted it to be her’s too. None of the lies hurt anyone, none, except the final one. He. Was. There. That fact shattered her. Then she realized, all those pieces he left behind were just new colors to add to the mosaic that is her life, her art, her design. In the end, those small pieces, will only be a tiny hint of color in her portrait. Only she will determine what is left behind for the world to remember her by. As for the story? Well, it was a story she had heard before. He was never going to change the ending, at least not for her…