I’m not sure if it’s the music, my hormones, or maybe just because I am staying up this late again after so long, but God, all I can think of is I miss you. I miss you and I know I won’t even have the guts to tell this because I have decided it would be better for me — for us, if I pretend I never got your message early this year or that I never read your reply to my notes that day two years after it all started.

I have told myself again and again that I am desensitized. I’m not. Who am I kidding? My brain resorts to you when there’s nothing else to think about. It’s your absence in my life that I have realized I still am, perhaps after all this time, into you.

One of the most difficult things in life is turning your back on the most familiar faces. I have grown accustomed to your existence for that long time. I have suppressed my emotions and thoughts since we’ve parted ways but it’s during these times, not the aftermath, but the post-recapture that I realize you are never getting out of my system. After all, there are people we love that we lose, and people that we lose but we love.

I have done everything I could to get you out of my life but your number still tumbles easily out of my mouth, your name still a bitter medicine, your words more familiar than that of my favorite song. You are a memory that never fades, only set aside.