Instead of going out on that Friday night she got out her old suitcase and filled it with every memory of the one who broke her heart. She gathered every picture, every love letter and poem, every baggy band sweatshirt and gently packed them away. With her warmest scarf and mittens on she hauled the baggage down to the taxicab and gave the driver an address. "Here you are, miss did you need a hand with that bag?" She kindly refused the offer and stepped onto the pier. The suitcase grew heavier and heavier by the minute as she drug it all the way to the edge of the dock. Waves crashing against the wood and the wind ruining her hair she took one last look at the bag and tossed it over the edge. A single tear streamed down her rosy red cheeks as the tide took away the suitcase full of broken promises. She ran back to the cab and asked him to take her home where she could finally exist without the burdens of love. There is no moral to the story, no real point to be had Except that I am that girl and I put you in that bag.