It was late when I discovered that everything we used to have was gone. Not even a memory, but, I should be happy because I decided to be this way. I left you, I throw you away like a piece of garbage I can just live behind without regrets. Its felt weird, and not good, still though I was happy because at least I was independent. I have to be honest, I was still in love of you but things meant to happen the way they did. I broke into pieces, like a ballerina when she find out she’s not good enough and her dance is not inspiring to others. No matter what you said, I wasn’t meant to be the evil of the story neither the good one. Love wasn’t my style, I was so closed to myself on my small world where nothing else matter but my music and poetry. So selfish that I couldn’t watch myself with someone else, because I didn’t want all this happiness for myself; I didn’t deserve it.