Seven years ago, I would wish that I could still tell you how I count each bus that tries to fetch me up everyday. I would wish that the wind would blow harder today and tell you that I am still stuck on the shore where you left while I bear with me the luggage of memories and scars that you've caused me.
But that was seven years ago.
I grew tired of the beautiful view of the sea, the calming music of the waves crashing, and the endless hum of the wind. I grew tired of the memories that sweeps my heart out and leaves me empty. I grew tired of wishing that after I cried out an ocean, you will come back to me sailing. Now, all I want is to leave my luggage of yesterday and get in on the first bus that will stop today.
Because, that was all seven years ago.
