If I could hang my guard up high, I would. I'd keep it there so that words and actions or the lack of them, would never prick my fragility. Time after time, it's the same wounds that keep making way for open and patching up, only to sprint in circles of bursting from the vengeance of return. The emotionally-desirable has strayed, into a wild meadow casting nothing but hovering dark clouds.

My muse is vulnerability at your absorbence or dispense. You left me hollow and you emptied all that my life was brimming me up with. Your kept by your selfish promises toward yourself and you think of break up as the only let-down towards me. Well, you're wrong.

Perhaps, my shoes are too small for you and you can't place yourself in them. Perhaps, you need someone whose feet fit into your shoes because mine can't. Perhaps, your feet are too huge to slip into my shoes. To me, everything thinned into evanescence seven months ago. It isn't indifference you were hiding under carpets, it was the absence of what used to exist. Love.

So maybe you pricked the needle hard on what was truest, that we don't match. But despite all that, you will forever remain the most special part of me. I'll just end this all by thanking you for twenty-two months of innocence, betrayal, love, affinity, hurt, fun, extreme emotions, excitement, monotony, commitment, laughter, tears, vibes, fear and everything else that I can't bring up at the tip of my fingers.

Please take good care of yourself. Don't under-eat just to lose weight. Don't keep skipping lectures and remember to focus on your studies. Don't mingle with friends who will lead you astray. I wish you happiness from now until always, really. If I can't provide you with happiness, I hope you source for it well on your own. I'm sorry I couldn't be all that you needed and wanted.

And remember to think of me and the times we had, sometimes.