I still wonder if you think about me like how I still think about you.

The way your fingers brush against the outline of my face, while you slowly push my hair behind my ears, the way you look into my eyes, and the way your lips caress mine.

Sleepless nights, I often wonder what went wrong. I lay in bed, eyes wide opened, thinking about the good times we had. We were happy, weren’t we? But then you told me that you were tired, that it was difficult, that I was difficult. Was I?

Three months later, I hear from our friends that you found someone new.

I am not sure if I am ready to accept that. I don’t know what I would do if I see you and your new someone on the streets. Should I hide, or act like I don’t know you? And what if our eyes met, would you look away?

I don’t think my heart would be able to handle any of this. The thought of it breaks me. What if I see you looking at her with much more love in your eyes than how you used to look at me? And what if I see you kissing her? How do I look at you without feeling the soft touch of your lips?

I started going out with someone. I don’t know if I actually like him, or if i’m trying to fill the emptiness in my heart. It felt like a part of me died the day you told me you wanted to end it, end us. I tell all my friends that he is the nicest person on earth, and I might really like him, but I don’t even know if I really feel so.

And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to hug him without feeling your touch. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to kiss him without thinking of your lips. Or anyone else.

But well, I hope you’re happier now.

Or at least, I am trying.

I’m still trying.

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