And, as the days go by, my love for you has begun to change.
Only you are capable of bringing this agony, so easily even without trying.
I want to be rid of it, to break free from this excruciating feeling that gives me, now, the least happiness.
But that would mean forgetting you.
I thought once that I would, if you’d tell me to.
But I see now that there’s no need.
Everything seems simple until you think about it.
You never wanted me to feel this pain.
You never wanted me to feel this way for you.
And when it all goes away, you’ll forget the day when I first saw this feeling as “love”.
In another person’s life, one can either be
Or a partner.
In my life, I wanted you to be everything.
But to you, I was only a friend.
He was every bit of my short-lived happiness, a part of my overwhelming sadness, and the blatant beginning of my madness. I don’t ever want him out of my life, and only now did I realize that seeing him is what makes a good day so good. Whether he had a smile on his face or not upon seeing me, matters no more as long as he stayed.
If time could turn back to better days, he would still be there.
She knows you better than I do, and has been there waiting, before I even realized these feelings which I hold.
She looked a bit like you, too. Pale skin, little eyes, and an angel-like aura every time she passes by. Your friends seemed to like the two of you together, and I couldn’t pretend not to see it.
Yes, you two are perfect for each other.
But she’s giving you to me.
You’re not hers, nor you are mine. But for some time now I’ve decided to only become yours, and I could tell she won’t ever think of having such a decision in her pretty head.
She must’ve thought of you as handsome; no, you’re too beautiful to be called that. There is something about you which only I knew of; she doesn’t see you the same way as I.
And this, is what calmed me every time she’d run up to me, her wings spread wide open, telling me of her love for you. I was foolish for letting it get to me, and even felt the need to ask you about it.
You didn’t disappoint, when you made it clear that she’s not the one for you either.
I wish you’d talk to me more. Don’t get me wrong, though. I feel like the happiest person in the world—
every time you reply to my messages but I noticed something. I felt stupid for not pointing it out before, but when I reread our old conversations, it became clear to me that
I was the only one who’s interested.
You never asked how I was doing. I only ever flood your phone with questions revolving your life and all you do was either answer them or find a way not to. You never did the same to me. It hurts because I kept wondering if there’s a better side of you that I haven’t seen before, and it gets worse whenever I think about which people knew you the most.
I want to get to know you better. Right now I hardly know a thing about you because you won’t let me, but if ever you need someone whom you don’t know much but still understands you, just know that you can always talk to me.
If I were to sit here all day, and think about why I find it hard to stare back into your
deep, beautiful eyes
every time they meet with mine, then I would probably be better off wasting 24 hours of my life doing something about it than trying to solve a question whose answer will forever remain a mystery.