Another letter has written. Indeed, another waste of time.
If you are asking me why I am still writing this, I'm afraid I cannot give you an exact answer. I could write a thousand of words and letters but it will still be not enough. Well, always like I am.
I am not enough for you to even look at. Not enough for you to hold. And never enough for you to love.
And it pains me to see how desperate you are trying to be enough for someone you love. I can only imagine your sorrow and your heartbreak while I am trying to ignore my own.
Trying.
I am trying to ignore the pain until I become familiar with it to make me numb. I am trying to hide the loneliness with vibrant smiles and playful laughs to tell everyone I am okay.
But who am I kidding?
I am trying to fool myself that I am over you. That is why I am still writing about you. Yes! I am trying to be over you, so hard, I just want to feel all the pain all at once until I got tired of feeling anything.
I am trying so hard to be over you so I can feel again. So I can be real happy again. So I can stop hearing the painful beating of my heart and the crashing sound of my dying soul.
I am doing all my best trying so hard to forget every memory of you.
But then, one look and I know I am still stuck on that same place where I am secretly admiring you. One smile and I am back to the starting line again. One move and I am rooted on the grounds of loving you.
Everything is just a poor attempt to forget and move ahead. I am completely smitten into you.