Love is like a car

When it's new,

It works seamlessly,

And you learn to love it


Love is like a car,

The more you're with it,

The more you love it.


Love is like a car

The more you fuel it,

The more the love burns between you two


Love is like a car

When it gets old,

So do you.


Love is like a car

When it starts to break,

You fix it.


Love is like a car

When it finally breaks,

Your heart breaks,

Letting go of something you loved.

Loving is inevitable.

Yet somehow, people say that love is a choice. You can choose to love or
not love somebody. I never wanted to, but I did. Loving you was not my choice—
not mine to begin with. But I did. I love how your calloused fingers, all beaten
up because of your love for paintbrushes and canvases, held mine tightly and
intertwined with them; dancing along with mine, which smelled like the enticing scent
of old, wrinkling books due to my love for reading. I love how your eyes are
lighter in color, more radiant and distinct than anybody else's. I love that scar of
yours placed just atop your crescent-shaped eyes. I love the way your crooked
teeth is still perfectly misaligned; not too much and not too little. I love how
your breath brushed against mine, smelling of nothing but you. I love how you
make yourself be like you and you alone. And I know that art is never supposed to
look beautiful, and that art is supposed to make you feel something, and that
you are. It's not my choice to begin with, but I did. Loving you was beyond my control.

Letting go isn't.*

To let go of someone is a choice you can make. You can't let skies, or stars,
or moons, or signs to tell you when it has to happen. You either let go and free
someone, or cling onto someone you know will eventually get hurt or hurt you.
Letting go is something you can grasp onto with your fingertips and decide upon.
It is the fact that you have to let a part of you stray away that makes it hard to
do so, because loving you made me take a part of myself just so I could make
you feel as if you were mine and I was yours. Because once a part of you is given
to someone, you never truly get it back. It stays with them, long after you've
both moved on and fell apart. It sticks with their souls, reminding them of what
you two have had and have been. Once. I could've chosen to not let you go, but I
did, because we never should've been together in the first place—ironic how first
place even appeared here, because we both knew I never was*—for a second. Letting
go of you was my choice. It always has been to begin with.

They say it will all fade: the sound of your voice, the warmth of your embrace, look in your eye when you are genuinely happy, these feelings I have for you. They say it will all become a distant memory. A thing of the past. I just, I just don't know if I'm ready to forget you.  I find myself holding on for dear life. But is it worth it? Is remembering you worth knowing that you forgotten me?
I've tried to forget you.
Believe me,
I've tried… I just can't yet.
I can't move on.
I can't be me without you.
I can't breathe without you.
I guess I'm just stuck.

when I said I love you,
remember that it's true.
When I said I trusted you,
Remember that I still do.
When I said I hated you,
I hope you know it's not true.
Remember when I got mad at you?
Because you said you loved me,
You said you trusted me.
But at the end,
You said you hated me also.
You hated me for something I didn't do.
Though you hurt me,
Know that I still love you.
But now........
*I am letting you go.

You had just as many chances to talk to me last night as I did. It's obvious you had no desire to. I'm just surprised it took me so long to finally see it. I've spent too much time with you in my head. Now it's time to let go of the imaginary you and face the real you. It's crazy how deceiving the mind can be.

Thank you for the ride,
for the magic,
happiness,
and the other
roller coaster ride of
emotions you evoked
in me.

Thank you for the adventure,
for the trail of memories
you left in my head.

Thank you for the book
that you gave me;
for the words and feelings
that we've shared together,
will forever be
embellished in my heart.

And lastly, thank you for
the company. There will
never be an escapade
as adventurous,
as fun,
and as magical
as what we had.

And this is good bye.

But I'm hopeful because,
one good bye will mean
another hello.

You let go. Move forward. And yes, sometimes it hurts.