I want to write about how much I loved you.
I want to write about how walking at midnight while holding your hand felt enough. How staring at you felt like falling deeper in love. How we shared the same cup of coffee and drank. How for once, we found home in each other's arms.
I want to write about how much I missed you.
I want to write about how every puffing smoke of cigarette are clouds of hope I'm sending to heaven wishing for you to comeback. How counting stars has been counting reasons to not let go. To count more reasons for me to stay and still hope.
I want to write about how regretful I am.
I want to write about how much I regret not opening the door when you were knocking under that rainy night. I want to write about how sorry I am for depriving you the chance to explain. I am so sorry for inflicting too much pain.
I want to write about how much it hurts.
I want to write about how you gave up. You stopped knocking on my door. You stopped pleading me to hear your explanation and get up from kneeling on the floor. You stopped begging for another chance. When the rain stopped, you left after giving your last painful glance.
I want to write about how much it hurts. But everytime I'm writing, I'm still looking for the comfort of your words.
I have been writing about how painful it was. My love for you has been the strongest force that kept pulling me from where we began--- but I should've end this prose long before we were done.