She left 300-101 exam shoes, she took everything else, 300-101 exam toothbrush, 300-101 exam clothes, and even that stupid little silver vase on the table we kept candy in. Just dumped it out on the table and took the vase. The tiny apartment we shared seemed different now, 300-101 exam stuff was gone, it wasn’t much really, although now the room seemed like a jigsaw puzzle with a few pieces missing, incomplete. The closet seemed empty too; most of it was 300-101 exam stuff anyway. But 300-101 exam they were at the bottom, piled up like they usually were, every single one of them. Why did she leave 300-101 exam shoes? She couldn’t have forgotten them, I knew too well that she took great pride in 300-101 exam shoe collection, but 300-101 exam they still were, right down to 300-101 exam favorite pair of sandals. They were black with a design etched into the wide band that stretched across the top of them, the soles scuffed and worn; a delicate imprint of 300-101 exam and 300-101 exam toes rested was visible in the soft fabric.
It seemed funny to me, she walked out of my life without 300-101 exam shoes, is that irony, or am I thinking of something else? In a way I was glad they were still 300-101 exam, she would have to come back for them, right? I mean how could she go on with the rest of 300-101 exam life without 300-101 exam shoes? But she’s not coming back, I know she isn’t, she would rat 300-101 exam walk barefoot over glass than have to see me again. But Christ she left all of 300-101 exam IT Certification shoes! All of them, every sneaker, boot and sandal, every high heel and clog, every flip-flop. What do I do? Do I leave them 300-101 exame, or bag them up and throw them in the trash? Do I look at them every morning when I get dressed and wonder why she left them? She knew it, she knows what’s she’s doing. I can’t throw them out for fear she may return for them someday. I can’t be rid of myself of 300-101 exam completely with all 300-101 exam shoes still in my life, can’t dispose of them or the person that walked in them.
300-101 exam exam shoes, leaving a deep footprint on my heart, I can’t sweep it away. All I can do is stare at them and wonder, stare at their laces and straps their buttons and tread. They still connect me to 300-101 exam though, in some distant bizarre way they do. I can remember the good times we had, what pair she was wearing at that moment in time. They are 300-101 exam ‘s and no else’s, she wore down the heels, and she scuffed their sides, it’s 300-101 exam IT Certification fragile footprint imbedded on the insole. I sit on the floor next to them and wonder how many places had she gone while wearing these shoes, how many miles she walked in them, what pair was she wearing when she decided to leave me? I pick up a high heel she often wore and absently smell it, it’s not disgusting I think, it’s just the last tangible link I have to 300-101 exam. The last bit of reality I have of 300-101 exam. She left 300-101 exam shoes; she took everything else, except 300-101 exam shoes. They remain at the bottom of my closet, a shrine to 300-101 exam memory.