L'incroyable Vérité

"You were supposed to heal on your own, it is the personal purpose of living and, above all else, surviving. And never forget, all the things that you have done has everything to do with what is happening to you right now."


I miss you.
I miss talking to you; I miss being with you.
I miss being me when I'm with you.

I'm sorry I was stupid not to see the possibilities of being with you. I was stupid enough not to understand that, if I had insisted upon it, there were chances of us to fall in love--that me and you were the perfect match, how weird you possibly thought of it right now. Because right now we are different people of who we used to be, and if there is a possibility that we meet, you wouldn't like me for who I am right now and vice versa. The reason is not as poetic as Murakami's books, but it saddens me more than his books. I can't have you now when I understand you could be someone that is more compatible with me than any other guys out there that I know. I can't be with you. You are not here.

Maybe we are destined to solve our lives first. To go where we are supposed to headed, instead of just staring idly at the world as it goes by. We should find the best place to stay and the best place to live. Yes, to live, not just to survive. And perhaps when we are complete, we'll find each other again. Under the falling leaves and finally living together under the same roof. Not just connected with the vast blue sky like we are right now.

And maybe, someday
we'll fall in love.
The way we supposed to,
years and years ago.

I miss you.
And I think I'm already never going to fail you.