It is almost a day and a week since we've talked, and I must say, it quite feels nothing, what I mean is that I don't think of you that much, unlike before that I could go crazy thinking of you every minute of every hour. And I think that's you're hoping for me, and it's going pretty good. As usual you're coming into my mind frequently, honestly during weekends, when I'm so vacant, your insensitive talking comes into my head and here we goes the blaming, but it always end with a conclusion that you don't want me anymore, like REALLY, AND IT IS THE MAIN POINT HERE, YOU DON'T LOVE ME AND WANT ME ANYMORE.
What is I want is a closure, just once, and ypu can rid me out of your life, as you ever wanted long before ago, since I'm a bitch, slut and even a manwhore.
And I want to hook up with you for many last times. I'm so dry up here.
Not for love, go for LUST!
There are moments in life so small, so ordinary, that you barely notice when everything changes. A glance held a little too long. A laugh that feels different in your chest. A touch that lingers.
She became my best friend, my constant. Late-night calls, endless adventures, secrets whispered into the dark. It was always easy with her, natural. Safe.
But somewhere between laughter and promises, something shifted. I didn't know it at first-not really. I just knew that when she smiled, it felt like the sun had chosen me. That when she cried, it hurt more than my own heartbreaks. That when she was near, the world made a little more sense.
This is the story of how we found each other-not as we were, but as we were meant to be. From friends, to lovers, and somewhere even deeper than that.
Because sometimes, the greatest love stories start with a simple truth: it was always you.