The chapter is closing. Our story is over even if the ink on my pen hasn’t dried and I never stopped writing what happened after..
Everything I did, every step I took was for this. Every single move was full of hope. There’s still hope, but hope for something that might never be. 
Deep down I know it’s useless. Even stupid. I’m gonna try, and I might fail but even so I will try again and again and might get shot down but someday I’ll move on. Every now and then I’d be back to square one on getting out of this, the struggle is hard. 
I remember too much. Constantly smiling at memories unaware. But that’s beautiful because you’ve given me so much to remember. All too happy to be forgotten. And some too sad to be remembered. But that’s what a wrecked love leaves behind. And I carry every piece of it with me. Without all those I don’t know who I’d be. 
I was so depressed and broken, couldn’t make any conversation other than feeling all caught up with the sad past. I was hurt and broken. 
And now I’m unaware of what I am. Still caught up. A bit. But that’ll only heal with time, a lot of time. Months and years maybe. But just months I hope. 
Wishing you nothing but happiness. Seeing you happier kills me a bit but that also gives me a reason to move on. Clearly the way you have. You were always stronger, immune to unnecessary love. You are lucky. To have loved and forgotten, because it’s painful to remember the dead. Knowing you won’t see them again the way you did before, knowing that you no longer will laugh over the silliest things and share the same jokes, and make love or fuck hard after a long week or day. I miss how I looked forward to spending time with you.
I was cleaning all day, finally settling down at home. And at one point I couldn’t stop thinking how great it would’ve been if we were still together, I’d get to see you at the end of the day. And that would make everything okay. That would complete me.
Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough. I don’t know why.

The chapter is closing. Our story is over even if the ink on my pen hasn’t dried and I never stopped writing what happened after..
Everything I did, every step I took was for this. Every single move was full of hope. There’s still hope, but hope for something that might never be. 
Deep down I know it’s useless. Even stupid. I’m gonna try, and I might fail but even so I will try again and again and might get shot down but someday I’ll move on. Every now and then I’d be back to square one on getting out of this, the struggle is hard. 
I remember too much. Constantly smiling at memories unaware. But that’s beautiful because you’ve given me so much to remember. All too happy to be forgotten. And some too sad to be remembered. But that’s what a wrecked love leaves behind. And I carry every piece of it with me. Without all those I don’t know who I’d be. 
I was so depressed and broken, couldn’t make any conversation other than feeling all caught up with the sad past. I was hurt and broken. 
And now I’m unaware of what I am. Still caught up. A bit. But that’ll only heal with time, a lot of time. Months and years maybe. But just months I hope. 
Wishing you nothing but happiness. Seeing you happier kills me a bit but that also gives me a reason to move on. Clearly the way you have. You were always stronger, immune to unnecessary love. You are lucky. To have loved and forgotten, because it’s painful to remember the dead. Knowing you won’t see them again the way you did before, knowing that you no longer will laugh over the silliest things and share the same jokes, and make love or fuck hard after a long week or day. I miss how I looked forward to spending time with you.
I was cleaning all day, finally settling down at home. And at one point I couldn’t stop thinking how great it would’ve been if we were still together, I’d get to see you at the end of the day. And that would make everything okay. That would complete me.