Still

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Since we last talked, I mean. And I’m not referring to our last text messages — I’m referring to the last time we really, truly talked.

And oh, how I miss our conversations, hanging out in cafés to discuss everything from books to philosophy. It was a better time for us, a time when we were so in sync we knew what the other was thinking. A time when communicating wasn’t quite as exhausting as it did in the last months.


We won’t have the fairytale ending we imagined for ourselves. You have to understand that when I said goodbye to you, I had to say goodbye to the life we had planned, too. I won’t walk down the aisle to find you at the end of it. We won’t be buying a house together. We’ll never have those kids we wanted so badly.

Despite how badly things turned out, I still think about you. In the span of a day, I can list down at least three things that remind me of you, whether it’s a funny Facebook post or a thought-provoking article. I still wonder how your day is going and more often than not, I hope it turned out well, because I only ever wanted the best for you. I still toss and turn in bed, remembering the nights when you were there to hold me tight (and complain the next morning when I hog all the space).

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you, still.

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