Remember
I like to think of you sometimes. Not much – when I’m alone, and my eyes catch the colour of yours in a glimpse, then try to reach you, but you’re gone. When I’m alone, and I can hear the sound of your voice, not deeply, but softly whispering in my ear.
When I’m alone and your memory invades my senses and I start recomposing our story hoping that this time, just this time, it’ll end right.
I remember you once told me you didn’t care about anything, but me, that I stole all of your emotions and never gave them back.Then you took all of them away, forcefully, pushing aside the remains of me inside your heart. In an instant that still lives on, I turned from your everything into your nothing.
And I remember the time when I thought love was about chasing after you, not letting go.
And I realize now, after all this time, that I was desperately and hopelessly in love with you. But I didn’t know how to love you, and you didn’t care enough to show me.
I remember us, always a shadow of what we could’ve been, believing that being a shadow was enough. I remember us never being silent, not even when we were, like our breaths could communicate and say those words that were missing. I could get you from your breath, and you could get me from mine.