It's been 334 days passed by, and your name's still engraved somewhere inside my heart. It's been months since the last time my phone rang and your voice haunted my midnight. I somehow still wish that it wasn't the last time, yet I always made scenarios in my head on how you left my universe. I always made myself clear that you'd walked away someday, but I never knew the day when it came to my realization that you slowly faded away from my reality. And when I stepped back, it's never us from the beginning. It's your world, collided with mine, and we became dust of past tenses. Old love, old stories. Obsolete poems I still hold on tight, think that the "might be" will come true someday. The day that will never come.
It's been a while. I have to admit that sometimes I still waited for you to come knockin' my back door like you used to. Slippin' in and out, and nobody knows. The glances when we passed in front of my yard. The poems I wrote to the papers without calling out your name, but you knew. You should've known about memories I kept in between the lines, about books I picked and you patiently waited. About sweet drink I first tried and you kept encouraging me because it's good. It was good, like sweet lies you made. Like sweet lies I dared to try, to sprinkle up my bitter life.
It's been days I tried to run in the night and threw away the thoughts of you. The noise of horns, the crowds I hated, the city far away from you. The life without you in it. It's only less than a year, and I'm still drunk in this pain. Slowly, I tried to sober up and keep on going. I don't know the destination yet. But for me, it is clear, it's the place without your presence anymore.
01.12.25; 09.40pm
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