Letters to her, us and our abstract love

The one in which I almost cried during Morphology

Letter #2 (#4?)

Eight months after you broke my heart

If you were here, you would give me your phone. I had forgotten mine at home and I don't want to pay attention to class because it is boring. So, if you were by my side I would say "give me your phone" and you would give me one of those looks of yours and I would give you one of mine and we both would smile while I take your phone from your hand and rest my head your shoulders.

You would stare at me because you don't want me to know your secrets. And I do want to know it all about you, but I won't look into it because you are right beside me... And we would stay like that: me, looking up at funny thing so that we can laugh together... Everything would be funny and happy if you were here. And, once we are sure nobody is looking, we would hold hands under the desk...

But you are not here. And I have tried my best to make you are absent on my brain as well. However, it is impossible. Specially when you abruptly squeeze out from my memory during Morphology to torment me. Specially when I have told myself that it's over, for my eyes to water when the ghost of you smiles at me and kisses my forehead.

I guess she was right: true love is always the first love...

I miss you and I hope you are okay; completely happy almost. Because I am not. And if you are not either, I hope you are unhappy because of something/someone else. Because what kind of fools - the greatest ones - we would be if we were longing for each other without actually fighting for one another.