Dear stranger
I'm sitting alone in the coffee shop while thinking about you sitting by my side.
I'm thinking about you,
I'm thinking about us and how awful it is to realize, that all You'll ever be to me, is a silly strange memory.
And yet I can't help but wonder still, if someday it'd come true
My silly fantasies and all those daydreams, for all of them are full of you.
I sip onto the warm cup of coffee, slowly letting my thoughts be intoxicated by its scent but yet somehow it manages to hold onto thoughts of you.
I wonder how it feels to not think about you anymore.
