Accidentally saw your Instagram story update with a new guy, whom I have never heard before.
Quite handsome, I must admit.
I honestly don't know what I am doing here, 4:47 a.m. in the morning, trying to find ways to write you off my chest.
I must let you go. And I will, but in the meantime, I wanna cherish all the good memories we had and slowly, painfully learn from all the mistakes that I did.
I wish it'd be easy. I wish that I'd never be emotionally scarred by everything that had happened, but I know I already am. The wound I have now, in my heart, grew exponentially bigger as time flows. It's bleeding, and I don't know what to do about it.
I don't have the bandages, or the first aid kit. Even if I do, I don't think I can wrap it around my heart by myself, at this point.
I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, trying to sleep, desperately trying to remove drifting thoughts about you.
But whatever it is, I am grateful to Allah that you came into my life.
I really don't know what to do at this point. I can only pray that Allah will guide me through this, despite my shortcomings and my sins; my inconsistencies and my convictions.
It's really hard to move on. Moving on is such a blasphemous word, I don't think it ever existed in literal sense anyway. We never move on, we just simply forget, or in other cases, accept that things didn't work out because it wasn't meant to be. Or just live with it, I guess. The latter sounds very likely to happen.
In the end, people leave. But memories stay behind, leaving trails of melancholy and regrets, along with diminishing scent of passion and emotions.
This is the lowest I have been. As far as I know, in my 21 years of life, this is it.
The heartbreak I (secretly) wanted, and the heartbreak I got.
My only choice and my only way, is forward.
