As she put on her mascara she thought about him and wondered if this would end like so many that had come before. A pleasant conversation and an invitation to get together again with no intention to follow through. She thought about the pillow-fluffer and his unnatural obsession with a certain decorating store. She thought about the cop who, inside, was still a boy clomping around in his father’s shoes. She thought about the others that had peppered her life along the way; not meant for more than a brief stay. Finally, she thought about the one who had broken her heart. He still meandered through her thoughts now and then. She thought about the laughter they shared and about her tears. Her focus had been on battling past demons and desperately fighting the urge to run…as fast as she could…in the opposite direction. In the heat of battle, she had lost focus of the self she put forth and inadvertently taught him the wrong way to treat her. She alone had tried to change their fate but, in the end, realized the lessons already learned could not be reversed. She had raised the flag and, head hung in defeat, walked off the battlefield. She wondered how much time passed before he noticed the flag as it waved so softly in the wind. She thought about the lesson she had learned, tucked his memory back behind the door and started to walk away. She stopped, turned the key and placed it above the threshold. The door had a nasty habit of popping open at the wrong time and she would not to allow it to happen again today.