Not mine… Just my boredom coming out…
AVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVA
I never really understood it. She never used her name on paper. She didn't buy things, or join clubs, or anything else that would prompt her to regularly sign her full name.
Even simple things were left nameless: a valentine, a letter to a friend.
I don't even know what made me notice it really, since it was nothing out of the ordinary; after all, it was how she signed everything. But everything about reading that simple note, with the simple heart scrawled across the bottom of the page, it was too much. I looked from the simple note in my hands, to the pool of blood at my feet, and I knew I would never be able to forgive her for not letting me see her name. She had always said that it was her name, and it was none of anyone else's business. She didn't want others to have access to find her. It had been something for her, and only her to hold onto. A little grasp on reality for when everything else slipped away. No matter how much she lost, she still had her name, and she took it with her.
And now every time I saw something she had written, a note or card she sent me, a love letter slipped under the door, I would see a million, red, baby sized hearts, the one part of her I would miss the most, and I would never have again… Her heart.