I hope you'd know how much it hurts.
It hurt so bad I can't sleep but writes on my diary,
scribbling down all my sentiments,
wetting my phone and pillows with my tears.
It hurt freakin' bad I stopped going to work,
'cause everytime I woke up, my blankets would pull me closer, my resistance were weak, I ended up giving up.
I tried to find the energy to greet the sun,
fake my smiles and face the world,
but like you, it left me.
I can't seem to find the joy and hope to keep going
so I stay on the bed all day,
again sulking, daydreaming, sobbing, regretting.
I hope you'd know how I cried myself to sleep every night,
and even in my dreams, I was chased by your memories.
I cried aloud that I would need to go to the bathroom so my sister won't hear my wailing.
I cried so hard, harder than I used to when I had let go of the man I've loved for six years.
I cried for us, though our love was fleeting—for I know the months I've spent with you were far happier than the years I've wasted in the past.
I hope you'd know that I would've stayed even after knowing the truth—the whole freakin' truth.
That I would still choose you.
That if loving me means facing your painful past,
then I would embrace you wholeheartedly.
That if being with you means being apart, then I'll wait—I'm good at waiting.
That if fighting for us means fighting each one's battle individually,
then I'd give you ample time to win yours,
I'll win mine.
But if you lost, I'm always a refuge.
I hope you'd know that you can always come back.
I'll be your home.
**
A/N
To that person who chooses to fight his battle alone, to the one who patiently waits, to anyone whose heart is bigger than any mistakes, to anyone who felt betrayed but forgives, to anyone who's still healing and almost mended--this one's for you. ♡
Love,
Midnight Weaver.