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CAN’T STRESS THIS ENOUGH

I miss you. 

Whenever i see that statement, my heart skips a beat. There’s somewhere here inside this stupid organ of mine making me feel you again through those 3 words you often used to say. 

I miss you. You were the only person who heard me say this. You were the only person special enough that made me say this. You.

I miss you. I remember you in every Friends episode I watch, in every Silent Sanc song I hear, in every Jollibee meal I eat. I remember those sweet innocent days of our lives that makes me wish and wish and wish for me to turn back time to when everything felt happy. To the time when my laughter was loud and true. To the time when I still have you. 

I miss you. I miss your hair that didn’t need any combing. I miss your hauntingly beautiful eyes. I miss your flat nose I always like to pinch. I miss your cheeks and its sweet scent whenever I try to kiss you. Kiss you. I badly want to kiss you right now. I want to be with you and it sucks for you don’t feel the same. 

I miss you. I fucking miss you. And fuck life for making me miss someone who doesn’t care about me. Fuck it. 

I miss you.

Positively skewed perspective

I cried my eyes out when I saw your picture with a guy around your arm, smiling. You won a debate award. Damn. You are on fire, girl. People have been asking what’s up with me then you come around with your achievement spreading around like a wild fire. I don’t have that. I’m just another regular unnoticeable girl in a 3rd class campus.   

I went to your house together with our other friends. We had fun. I guess? At least I know I did. You told us about your awesome new life. That’s no where near with what I have. You are so blessed. You broke up with me but it seems like karma missed that.

As I was in the room with you, I feel like I should envy your life, but I didn’t. I was your confidant for almost 2 years and I know you. I can see you are not happy. I can sense your curiosity about my life. I can see you still care. Either that or I’m just too arrogant to assume that I’m that awesome. 

I felt satisfaction when I got home. You were less prettier than you were before. You seemed to be locked up in a cage and the lively kid inside is now weak and hidden. You changed. You became something I wouldn’t fall for before. The media made me feel that you were having the time of your life without me. Although seeing you right now, I see different perspective. I see reality. In my perception, you and I are equally happy and mmiserable at the same time.