Stop leaving hints.
I get them;
I just don't reply anymore.

I guess it's because you claim everything
in that last message you sent
was a lie.

If that's true,
it means you won't always
be there if I need you,
and that I was never as important to you
as you said I was.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, please
stop leaving the little hints.
Show me that you've moved on.
Prove to me that I never cross your mind
anymore,
that you're completely over me.

Just get out of my life.

You said I reminded you of the rain,
and I said you reminded me of the sunset.
You said that you'd stick by me
even if there was some thunder.
I said I'd stick by you
long enough to see every sunrise.

But then, there was some thunder,
and some lightning,
and the rain you thought you knew so well
turned out to be a hurricane.

You didn't stay, but to this day
I still watch every single sunset
and wake up early
to see the sun rise.

You were the sun, she was the moon, and I was the rain.

You, the sun,
would rise every morning, sometimes accompanied by the most
beautiful array of colors, other times with dark clouds so deep,
suffocating—your rays couldn't even attempt to shine through.

She, the moon,
would go away every morning, just as you were rising,
because she knew that you would be too busy fantasizing about
the mysterious rain that you could never love her liked she wanted you to.

I, the rain,
would come and go, loud and soft, hard and gentle.
I never saw you, the sun, give off your beautiful, majestic colors
because whenever I would come, clouds would shield you from
being able to send me your love in the form of tremendous hues
that would have made me stay in love with you forever.

If it weren't for the rain, maybe the sun would have fallen in love with the moon.
If it weren't for the clouds, maybe the rain would have stayed in love with the sun.
But the moon shines brighter alone in the night sky than it ever would next to the sun,
and the sun is much more beautiful without the rain.

That is why the rain went away.
It had fallen in love with the sun because it felt like the sun was
the only thing that had also experienced the storm, but the
difference between the sun and the rain is the sun shined after each storm.
But the rain disappeared.
The rain could never see the sun shine.

He was the sun;
I was the rain;
together, we made a hurricane.
And during the eye,
for that simple night,
we were able to reunite.
The sun and the rain
together again,
but we knew it had to come to an end.
So the next day
the sun went away
and the rain never said
goodbye.

I can tell by the way you look at me,
one eyebrow cocked upward while
examining my so called perfection.
Completely astonished by my beauty,
the beauty I don't even see in myself.
Peering out of the right corners
of your deep brown eyes
without tilting your head at
even the slightest angle
because you don't want me to know
you still think about me.
But I've noticed you can't look away.
You can't look away
because that may be the last time
you ever see my face.
And the thought of that being
your last chance to catch a glimpse
at my sparkling blue eyes
destroys you.
You just can't look away,
and that's how I know you still love me
(even though you wish you didn't).

1 year ago - I remember you messing up your locker combination over and over again, just to make me laugh;

11 months ago - I remember you taking every opportunity you could to talk to me, even about the simplest things. You were so nervous, but honestly, so was I;

10 months ago - I remember you finally getting up the nerve to take the next step but getting too nervous and backing out before anything too serious happened;

9 months ago - I remember keeping in touch with you the whole summer and, in August, being alone together for the first time. You wouldn't dare make a move just yet, though. You had a plan;

8 months ago - I remember being back in school together, growing closer, falling faster;

7 months ago - I remember you being too scared to say a word, so I'd always be the one to start up conversations. But finally, one September night, I remember being alone at that football game and you putting your arm around mine;

And 6 months ago - I wish I could forget, because that's when you and I fell apart.

Since then, it's been 26 painfully tense weeks /
183 days of anxious avoidance / 4,380 hours of regret /
262,800 minutes of missing the way things used to be.

But through all this time,
all these billions of seconds later,
I still get that same exact feeling
every time I hear your name.

And I guess what I'm getting at is:
is it really that foolish of me to believe that
you could still feel the same?

Because yes,
I know that it's been 6 whole months since we fell apart,
but after all, it did take us that same amount of time
to fall together.

They say all good things take time,
yet the result of our love,
so cautiously constructed
upon months of fragile glances
and nervous conversations,
disappeared, lost among the constellations,
shattered by sunrise.

The hurt in my heart, however,
lasted what felt like a lifetime,
until one day the pain
decided to fade.

By the heat of the blazing sun,
which burnt from the burdens
of my innermost heart,
came a delicate dawn of hope,
a hope so grand
that it convinced me
to abandon my fears
and pursue the one thing
I'd feared the most.

So within a mere, fragile second,
as time once stripped away
the feelings I held for you,
so will it restore my desire
to mend the broken pieces
which the sun so brutally shattered.

I now give you my word,
a vow to disregard the calendars
with constant reminders of our distance,
and to trust in time.

For although I have come to learn
that time itself is a dangerous thing,
I have faith that it will bring us together
once more.