happy ending; sort-of

//Loving you means being poetic. It’s addictive, an obsession; much like heroin or whiskey. Funny thing about time, I was okay for a while I guess. My dream and goals pushed this heartbreak into the background but now I know, it didn’t go away. I’m not in an unbearable pain anymore, and yeah, I’m starting to forget the details. Your dreamy eyes when you smiled at me, the sound of your voice, the way your clueless body rushed to the kitchen when I said I was hungry at 2am and we were watching “Sleepless in Seattle”.  It seems so surreal, almost like a different life, a different person that loved me. You are still the last person I think of at night and the first one in the morning. You still come into my mind almost constantly. Maybe I’d still want to give us a chance. It still hurts, I still miss you but I think that’s okay. You are no longer in my life and the reasons we couldn’t work become clearer as time passes. And I think that’s enough reason for me to forget you. I sincerely hope you’ll find someone amazing to remind you every day that you’re beautiful, you’re loved, you’re an unexpected genius, you’re rare; like I used to do. And don’t worry about me, I’m alive, I’m in the process of healing. The storm has passed, and the waves have calmed, and the sun is rising, I’ll float in the water, I’ll dream again. I hope so. If it is not happy, it’s not the end//.

p.s: such a cliche to write about love.

Issa Bug

With luv!

Happy Endings

 

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