It’s 3:46am, April 24th. I’m staring blankly at the old roofs of my room and I’m recalling the times I spent with him.
Memories…
When I was at the edge of a break-up, I wrote my love story. Reminiscing the years I had with him. I wrote it in my notes on my facebook account and kept it private. I even asked him to read and the only reply I got from him? “Memories…”
Yes, they are just memories. Memories as fresh as they just happened a minute ago. Memories that linger on my mind whenever I’m alone.Memories that I’m still holding onto right now.
Memories…
I want to rewrite my love story, but I can’t anymore. I want to leave it as it was written a few months ago. All I have to do now is to answer the question I left at the end of it and start writing what had happened after. But I can’t. My heart says no and leave it the way it used to be. For who would care reading it? Just me.
Memories…
I’m staring blankly at the old roofs of my room and I’m recalling the times I spent with him. It’s 3:46am. Why do I still have memories as fresh as they just happened a minute ago?
I want to rewrite my love story, but I can’t anymore. My heart says no and leave it the way it used to be.
Memories…
