unknown
Often I couldn't type anything out -the words weren't good enough, and I would inevitably leave it off. To say the least, everything I wanted to say wasn't really a mystery, I felt like I had nothing new to offer.
My story? Yeah, we fell in love. Then we fell out of it.
Well, he, did anyway.
It's been a year now, since I said goodbye. The reasons are now all fuzzy now, and I can't remember if it was him or I. I try to reason with myself. Sure, he might have loved me but he had too many skeletons in his closet, too many secrets he kept hidden away from the world. Even from the one, he proclaimed to have been madly, truly and deeply in love with. I like to think that I stayed as long as I could and that I loved with every ounce of my being, but now, the odds were finally against us, and it was time to call it quits.
You asked me to stay. Just a silent whisper. I knew you were trying your best, but I wanted...I needed more than that. All those nights that you and I stayed up fighting, crying and hurting, I really thought somehow in the midst of it all, we'd make it. We were fifteen and sixteen, but I swear, I will never be as in love with anyone else as I was with you. And that thought truly haunts me, because whoever are next, they have to struggle with the remaining pieces of me. They have to muddle through, doing the best they can, even if I secretly know that nobody else could compare.
I can't believe my insanity sometimes either, those nights that I would dream of you, confessing that it was me you still wanted. A part of me still needs you to be brave and tell me before we leave high school for good that you love me, no matter the mistakes shared between us.
But time has passed, too much time. There is too much distance between the both of us, and we're so far away that I wonder if what we had, what we shared...were we even in the same world? Was there really a time when it was just you and me? Was there really a time when we loved one another?
What I would give to let you go, every bit of you. Your voice, your hair, your arms and hands, and the taste of your lips still on mine.
But I'm too late, and you're gone for good now.
You've moved on now and that girl - well, she's just amazing. Her silky black hair, her smile, her wonderful heart. You really did better second time around, didn't you? But I'm not mad, I'm mad at myself. Somewhere deep down in the shallow pits of my heart, I've wanted to confess this to you for so long now. Peter, I still love you and I'm sorry.
Please don't ever forget what we had. Please don't forget me. Please.
-A
