Dead hearts are everywhere

And you learn that you really can endure. That you are really strong. That you really do have worth. And you learn and you learn. With every good bye you learn…

I wonder will you ever get the chance to read this. I know this will come as a shock to you. The truth is, I always find myself writing about you. I can always try to write about the weather, the birds and the bees, or even music. But I know I’d end up writing about you eventually. About how I officially met you during a friend’s birthday party, how I tried to set you up with a girlfriend of mine, then surprisingly falling for you in the most unexpected ways and how I lost you one day on December.

I write about you, about all these things because I can’t tell you exactly how I feel or what’s going on inside my head. So I leave everything to pen and paper (Or laptop and electricity as you might say).

The thing is, if I tried to tell you, it wouldn’t come out right; how I find it hard to breathe just thinking about it. About you. How I stopped listening to the radio for quite some time, afraid that our song might turn up. How I never revisited the places we used to go and seeing our usual spot, because the memories still lingers on. How I used to just sit in the shower and waited for the tears to stop before I can go out and face the world without you. How I tried so hard to stay sober to keep you off my mind, and forget that I’m missing you. How I borrowed lines from my fave songs and books to express how I feel about you. How I can’t help looking for you among the crowd, hoping you’d be also looking for me. And how I imagined waking up each day, roll over the side of the bed and kiss you, the love of my life, a good morning.

Do you see what I mean?

Of course you don’t. ‘Cause to you I’m nothing but a bitter, broken chest. Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re wrong but I’m sure I’m being silly to even write about you with only just a few days before Valentine’s Day.

Just great.




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