"Tell me something I don't know" you said. You were gazing at the moonless sky, while I pretended to be sleeping. Answers came rushing to my mind but I couldn't even speak.

     You don't know that you loved a red rose, so delicate but you might bleed against my thorns. You may end up letting me go for I am not worth the pain. You don't know that the girl next to you is a shooting star, you can either catch it or miss it. And even the constellation swears that the latter weighs more to you. You don't know that I have already given you myself. I don't fear to have nothing in return. I fear that the thing I gave is something to be returned. You don't know that in your warm blue eyes, is a reflection of me. And the second time I look through them, I am with a crowd of unfamiliar faces, when I am alone in front of you.

     I was sorry back then, I couldn't give a word other than silence. The things you don't know are the things I was afraid for you to know, 'cause I had a feeling this will happen— you leaving.