hopia, mani, popcorn, stork, garilyo

a smorgasborg of a blog, rolled into the head of a semi-neurotic, chainsmoker, who feeds into a bottle of Jack Daniels, while dipping his biscotti into a steaming hot triple tall, nonfat, caramel macchiato under the humid breeze of fiji in August.

Monday, December 08, 2008

Nothing ever hurt like you...

How long has it been?

Six years and counting….

Endless mimicry of moments of clarity…

And I still falter to that dark and gloomy place I was before. I guess I never really had any closure. I thought I did at some point, and maybe just tricked myself into thinking that I have.

Every other day, I keep wandering inside, looking for that feeling. The way you made me feel when we were still together. Everytime I get a glimpse of your face, I think I still have something left for you. Something more than what I had back then.

I’ve had recurring dreams about us. I never did understood what they meant. It feels so real everytime you’re there. Most of the time, I really just want to keep dreaming. In my dreams, I was never with you. You were always happy, content and glowing. Your smile always eluded me, but I see it. It’s just that, you were never back with me.

Why would I want to keep in that state, when all I would feel is envy?

One reason…is because I see you.

Nothing else matters, nothing in this whole wide world.

Cheesy?

Yes.

True?

Absolutely!

I need you more than ever. Though I’m not really pleading my case, I’m just letting it all out. I could steal you back. I did it once, I could do it again. Its crazy isn’t it?

It always is, when it’s you and I involved.

I could still remember you telling me…’don’t ever leave me. I don’t know what I’ll do if you left me’.

February 19, 2002.

That was the day I died.

Was it because I wasn’t there? I knew that you still have strong feelings for me when I saw you a few months after that fateful day. So strong, that I could have sworn you were telling me to stay and never leave again. A year after that passed. I saw you again, and that same sparkle was there whenever you look at me. I played it cool back then, didn’t I?

I got over you, yes.

I just never got over us.

Nothing ever hurt like you.

Nothing Ever Hurt Like You - James Morrison

pure fiction

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