Okay, it's short and it's depressing (but that's the point), and it's the third installment of my miniseries thing. The other two stories are My Unseen Goodbye and My Silent Farewell, so check those out. I may put them all together soon, but for now they're seperate. I hope you enjoy, i've rewritten this one a bunch of times 'cause i either kept losing my rough drafts or my french teacher took my notes on it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy. R&R!

Brea

My Forgotten ‘I Love You’

Hallways that once screamed with life have fallen silent. Lights that so recently glowed under doors have become dark. Toys which once littered the floors have been packed away, probably forever.

On the street, a car door slams. My little girl asks “Where’s Daddy?” but I just sit quietly on her neatly made princess bed, surrounded by stuffed animals with glass eyes.

She’ll be leaving soon, taking my babies with her. Will I get to see them grow? Their first dates, their graduations, their weddings?

I’ve said a million “I love you”s, but is a million enough? Will they resent me for not fighting harder, for not caring more? How will they know that for me, a billion “I love you”s would never be enough, that I care to the ends of the Earth.

They are so small now, so young. Will I ever play catch with my son, or see my baby girl’s prom dress?

When cowboys and princesses are a thing of the past, will I join them in the place of distant memories? My wife – my ex wife – is at the door. “We’re leaving.” She says, and I follow her to the car. A few last hugs, a few last kisses, a few last “I love you”s, and they’re waving goodbye.

As I see them as children for the last time, I return to my silent house. The hallway that once echoed with the laughter of little children is now empty. I stand at one door, and then the other, admiring the stillness of the rooms.

I’ll probably say a billion or more “I love you”s before I die, but in the minds of my children, I – and my “I love you”s – will soon be forgotten to the passage of time.