Memories, always memories.

Sometimes it’s still hard. It shouldn’t, but I’m a person that -I’m not gonna deny it- lives in the past. It’s something I can’t help even if I have tried a lot of times.

From my point of view, I think it’s quite hard not missing a pile of memories you’ve made with someone in such a short period of time. It’s something I don’t find possible.

And, what’s funny about this is that I’m quite sure you don’t miss any of the days we spent together. All the moments we shared. Sometimes I felt you wanted me to hate you and so I tried, but I can’t make my heart feel things it doesn’t want to. I’ve never made myself believing, wanting or loving something that my heart wasn’t going to. Maybe that got me a lot of problems, the thing of trusting more my heart than my mind –even that sometimes I do nothing because of fear-. I don’t really care about that.

I’m not sorry for have loved you that much, for missing you, for have felt lonely when you left.I’m just not.

I used to wait for the day when my heart said to me: “I wish nothing of this happened.” That day hasn’t come yet, and I truly think that if it hasn’t come, it never will. Not now that I can say that everything’s over.

I promise you I won’t love you how I did. Never again. I also promise you that when everything’s gone I’ll still miss you but I won’t ever want or let you back.

Goodbye my almost lover.

Bittersweet.

You know, sometimes I feel sad because I know, and it's obvious, that anything will be like it was back in the beginning. Our beginning.

We will never have that again, it's impossible.

But the fact that maybe it's the best for me, for us and for everybody, makes me feel better in the end.

One time we lived.