I will always be clueless about your life behind those windows. I can only wish you these things:

To those nights when you leave your lights on in the middle of the dark, I wish you are really enjoying the night time - that happiness is the reason why you keep the lights on - and that you don't choose to turn them on because you are affrighted of the shadows; that you don't feel like being consumed by obscurity, and that the demons might visit you in your dreams.

And to those nights when you decide to dim your lights, I wish you are having a good rest; that you don't have them off just because you don't want to bother anyone for staying up all night; that you don't need to cry yourself to sleep, and you are having a sound slumber.

I hope you are all at ease, and living your life peacefully.

The worst part of loving someone is that you don't know when to stop.
You don't know when your love becomes desperation for them.

Someone once told me, never tell anyone you can't live without them.
Because the fates are cruel mistresses and they will make you do so, just to prove you lied.

But how could you be alive if you carry that hurt throughout your life?
If every night you stay up till 4 and can't sleep past 8.
And even that sleep is haunted forever by what was and what could have been.

What do you do when your brain becomes your worst enemy?

These days I cradle the neck of my whiskey bottle as I used to cradle yours. I kiss its mouth thinking it's yours. It burns me from the inside just like your apathy did.

It calms me down and then turns me into the monster I know deep down I am.

The scars of my heart have no physical semblance but that's why I keep my head down when I talk to people. They'd see it all in my eyes.

Ask her, they say, ask what went wrong, why did this happen. You haven't gotten any closure, they tell me, and that is why you suffer.

But no, I whisper. There were no questions asked when you waltzed into my life and I will put no blame or demand any explanations now that you're no longer here.

What I will do however, is get over you. Not stop loving you. But move on with my life. I will keep myself together with glitter glue so that the day I fall apart, I go out in one last shower of colors.

I will hope for the day when you and I cross paths again and you hold his hand and I have
someone else's in mine. And we won't look at each other in the eye. We won't need to.

Because I will love you, like I always did. But I will never, ever take you back, even if it kills me like it already is.