How are you, really? Are you happy? I hope you are, I heard you are, I wish you are. Are you happy with her? Does she do things I can’t do for you? Does she love you more than I did? Does your decision of leaving me your best one yet? I hope it is… I hope.

Hey, you, I miss you, even on days I shouldn’t. I still remember the important dates I should have buried away with the old me. I still dream of you on nights that I should be sleeping peacefully in my current life. I still think of you, and how you are, our what ifs included. You’re still in me, lingering in me. You left me, but there is still a part of you that I refuse to let go, I know I should, but I refuse to do so.

They say pain changes people, but how come with you, I am still that same helpless, vulnerable girl who is madly in love with her first love?

I loved you, I love you, and for years I refuse to acknowledge that, for I thought denying it would make me the stronger one. But you are that person, you’re moved on, you’re happy, you’re okay. And I’m not.

I still hold on to our memories, even if they hurt me, even if I’m the only one left in them. Tell me, how do you do it? How did you do it? Teach me, how do I forget you? It is not enough that I see you as a jerk now. You’re still here, you’re still in me. And I wish you aren’t, I wish you never were.

I’m still yours, if not all of me, most of me, while I have nothing of you anymore. I still treasure the memories that meant nothing to you now. How could you become so whole while I’m still stuck in being pieces?

I hope you could answer me back one day, when you have figured out how come it took you no time to let go.