What if I am not happy anymore, what if you stole all happiness of my world? what if you just let me empty? I wonder why I’m still feeling, and what is this feeling about, if it is love or stubbornness, and how the hell you win this battle?
And when I attempt to take all memories to trash, you appear again and say hi, and I receive that kick in my heart again, and fills my eyes with tears and I close my mouth so strongly to stop any stupid beg words to come out, but I’m thinking on them while create poems of you, and draw your smile in my board, and wish your skin so badly, and write about birds and trees and sunny days, and all memories come back to my brain no matter my pride, my pride only keeps me speaknig you politely, as if it wouldn’t matter at all, as if I weren’t dying in an internal fight about something that still painting each and one of my days, but you don’t even care now, you don’t even notice, I’m just being your friend, as if. I’m just being as always, stupidly in love of you, terribly hurt, and truly repentant, and frostbitten of scare, but you won’t ever know this.