Sometimes, I feel that I still miss you. Not in the sense that I want us to  be together again, because as much as I know that what we had was a beautiful mess, I also know that it died long before our goodbye that Wednesday under the moonlight. I miss you in the sense that when I walk down the hallway of memories that I've known all my life, that there are days when I would just pause, take a deep breathe, gently close my eyes and remembering us walk side-by-side,
we are lost souls blathering about uncovering our own rightful place in this absurd fantasy. I miss you peeking through the shelves of our favourite library, obviously annoyed that it's taking me so long to pick which Murakami book to get to read.

But I think that I'm okay now, but there are really just some honest days, especially when time restraining me alone.
when I couldn't sleep and my mind will cheat on me and wonder about what it would be like if only we didn't drift away from each other. If only we stayed on the same path a little longer and worked things out. Today, as I write this letter— a piece of my heart. I'm starting to forget the sound of your laugh or the way you teases me.


Your alluring face is a bit hazy in my head now.

Your eyes began to shine a bit more dim like the sky when it is crying. But I still miss you in the sense that when I come across with the little things that remind me of you, things we both shared somehow like our  favourite series to get our *** laugh as hard or our love song to vibe on.
There is just really a part of me that just breaks unyieldingly and missing you is the only thing that I could do.