Vulnerable

I like times when we talk about the past, when you tell me about how you still keep everything I've given you, when you tell me how you feel when you read my letters. I like it when we reminisce about our favourite songs, the places we went together and the things we did and would do together. I like times where we talk about things we wouldn't say to anyone, and update each other on bits of stories we missed out. I like it when we are okay, when I can tell my friends about how wonderful and bittersweet you are, when I say I love you & when you say you love me back.

But sticks and stones may break my bones while your words can kill.

Are we really just two puzzle pieces which look conjoining that will never fit no matter how hard we try?

Take a bow

Things change. People change. I guess I have to accept that in this situation, because no matter how hard and how many times I try to convince myself that you are still who you were back then, I am going to end up disappointed and hurt like fuck like how I am now because you just aren't the same anymore.

You've taught me something, that there is no one in this world I should love more than I love myself, because once I step into that boundary, like the way I'm always putting you infront of everyone else, I am just going to be treated the way you treat me. As if I owe you a living. As if I have to give in all the time. As if I was born to submit to you.

I thought you were different. I thought we were different. I thought after everything we've been through, nothing in this world could ever come between us again. I thought you would at the very least, consider my feelings.