To you my dear friend,
I went to the beach today, there's nothing more calming than seeing the deep blue sea.
What bothered me is the thought of you again.I've always wanted to ask "how are you?"
But the words are just too strong for my pride to handle
I couldn't breathe.
I hope you still read my blog, despite the wrong grammar usage.
I still wish for that 2am calls, and the punch on the face from me.
You are the best mind reader, but an annoying attention seeker
Pointing out my flaws, and laughing at them
Thank you, because I've grown to
I never told you that.
I wrote you this letter not because "i miss you"
Or that I have regrets of not telling you how I truly feel
but because I had to say "I'm sorry"
for that times when I was always running away, when at the point of telling me something.
I do not want to hear it, or I guess I'm never actually ready to hear it.
I was too young and too dumb.
I was never perfect for you.
I'm a scared little girl.
I hope you don't remember me as a beautiful mess
(Honestly, I couldn't listen to that Jason Mraz song anymore.)
You played well. However, I still wouldn't want to admit that "I've lost" in the game.
I am a fighter, always ready to rebut. Yet, always looking for a hide-out
I was drowned by sentiments, and I was never Cynical.
You knew these things, and you used them as weapons.
I should've never given you my blog page.
I've lost and I fell in love.
I am not in the position to tell you these things, anymore.
Maybe you've found a better girl, who is not as crazy and bipolar as me.
Maybe you've loved a girl, more than me.
We fell apart, when I started crying instead of fighting.
No. We fell apart because, I knew you were always in love with someone else.
So, I started closing the doors. ///
If we ever meet again at the right time, please don't tell me you still love me
You'd not get the same answer as this.
I'm not the same girl, you've once known.
And I'd always wonder, what to call you
we weren't literally friends, but I don't want to admit we were more than that,
an ex-something, an ex-maybe