I shouldn't write about you. I shouldn't write about you because it's been 5 months and moving on shouldn't be this hard, right? I throw my heart to the ground and watch as the next person carefully holds it yet no one seems right, no one fills the gap of the broken veins. I think the reason why I reject people a lot is because all I'm doing is looking for a copy of you because honestly, you're the only thing that keeps me sane. You were my medicine; you still are. Despite my late night phone calls and texts with other boys who ask me what I wear, I still cry every time I listen to that one particular song and I still feel like dying when I stumble across a picture of us. Hell, we looked so good together. We fit each other like a puzzle and I didn't think fate would bring me such a good luck. I wore your smile on my lips and you held my heart so high I swore it felt like flying. It's both funny and sad to think that now there are other boys who have tried their hardest to make me smile like you used to but they failed miserably. God, can I ever let you go?

i know we're probably heading to separate ways,
but for God's sake,
please find your way back to me.

look;
i just want you to be happy.
i do.
i would be lying if i told you that i hadn't cried since the day you left,
but honestly,
despite all of my confusion whether i hate you or myself,
i just want you to be happy.

and, hey,
there are better girls for you to kiss out there
girls who don't cry when they love someone too much
girls who don't wish to get hit by a truck when they cross the road
girls who can give you a part of them without losing themselves completely
girls who knows how to cure a heart break

so go ahead
fly
you're as free as the wind now
you can run to the places we both have always wanted to see before
you can escape all your problems behind

but dear friend,
when you're tired of running,
or when you need a shoulder to cry on,
or when you need someone to talk to,
or when things don't go quite as good as you want,
please let me know
if i can still be the reason of your happiness

I wrote poems on your skin and the ink is permanent, my dear, even though our story isn't. You've always been the person who stopped me from digging my own grave and taught me that death isn't a good friend and I'm so glad that I met you in the first place. You're not the shelter that protected me from the storm but it's okay, I enjoy the aftershock of your lightning anyway. So thank you... for everything.

I love you. I do. And I don't have to own you to know it.