if i sit to count the things, songs, books, fragrances, places and photos that remind me of you, i'll keep sitting here the whole evening. you see, this feeling is strange. this isn't love, this isn't longing. this is something in between and i really don't have a term to describe it.
today, i went for a walk, listening to some random love songs. the place looked so dull. i saw kids playing and laughing. those sweet laughs pushed me back to the day when i was teasing you by ruining your hairstyle and you pulled out my hairband in revenge and how in that moment, we fell for each other.i witnessed fifteen years old us writing a poem. i found our scrapbook in drawer while cleaning room yesterday. the poem was there, as it is -- except-- this time your handwriting seemed extremely beautiful to me.
yeah shiny tear droplets slid down my cheeks, but i wasn't crying. or maybe, i was. sometimes we should be grateful about what we had and move on. but when night takes over, i just ask the universe - "why's this gotta be this way? why can't evenings and nights cooperate with our emotions? why isn't there any potion that'd erase some moments from our life?"
this leaves me thinking - do people really mean it when they say they've moved on?