I'm out here by myself. There are bestfriends here and couples, there are so many people. But I am all alone. It would be so nice if we were here together. What should I do now? Where do I have to go now? I'm so scared. Why did you do it? Why did you go and leave me here alone? How did I end up here alone? What happened to us anyway? I don't know if you are going to read this sometime, at night, wondering how am I doing. I don't know anymore if you ever had the time to check up on me, or even had the thought of me.
It was years... years have gone.
This kind of sick in the stomach, this kind of ache, this kind feels and this kind of thoughts-of-you. I remember this kind of night that pay me a visit, once in a while. /scoffs/ I swear I didn't see this coming, never have I ever. You know what? I wished you get this awful feels inside you the same way I do. It sucks like it consumes every part of you one night and left you there, at the dark corner, leaving you helpless. And that would be the only time you make the most sincere promises to God when the ache came.
I was lost for these past few years, hanging around with the wrong people, trying to find the person to give me the same... serenity. You brought the worst in me, I don't want to admit this, but still, you were the best. We were bad for each other, indeed. But we were the happiest back then. What happened to us anyway? What happened?
I don't know, for once, I thought maybe my phone will ring and your name would pop up again. I don't know, maybe it was just me. Or maybe I am in that time of the month. For whatever reason it is, I don't know how to explain to myself how did I get this kind of thought every now and then. I now know why this one time, I come to really hate this guy (I was dating) for not getting over his ex. I understand the whole thing now. Remember the thing I wrote on the back of my favorite book? If you hate a person, you hate something in him/her that is a part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us.
Maybe he reminded me of myself, a lot.
The part of myself that I really hate.