I wish I wasn’t so foolish to fall in love with her. I’m just a simple boy, incapable of understanding, very unworthy of her. A confused boy who tried to set the differences between fairy tales and reality, then failed afterward.

I believed that our souls were fatefully intertwined, that we were destined to be. She’s the only one. She’s my true karma, someone I can’t read, someone I can’t have. She accidentally made me insecure, wherein I’m trapped by the things I can make, by the things I can create, by the things I can achieve.

There are times wherein you don’t know what to do next. that happened to me when she left. I had no plans, had nothing to lose. All I could think of was her. Truth is, I don’t want to write about her anymore. I know for a fact that she’d love to hear that I’ve finally moved on, but what can I do? I’m just a writer who selfishly writes about what I truly feel. Writing since the day our paths crossed, when I found true love through her, to the day we made our promises, to our first fight, and when she finally left, to the day I painfully accepted defeat. After that, all posts are hopeless romantic ones. Each entry contains facts, posted a little late. Each entry contains sad memories of us. Each contains true love that I want to constantly prove to her.

Months passed, every morning became another heartache, every cold night got me wishing we were still talking on the phone like before, to the day I became numb to the pain, to this day I’m still reminiscing about our almost happily ever after. Funny thing is, she just hates me for not giving up on her. Now I can’t believe that she won’t talk to me. I tried everything. I did everything. I miss the love that was almost there, almost there, and then suddenly without any warning my Cinderella was gone.

What am I blabbering about? Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, and these are rubbish tales of anguish and bitterness. I loved you, I love you, and I will always love you.

PS: Happy Birthday to me