This is not really meant to be seen. But whenever I hear a memory, those strong emotions kept crawling back. Those feelings I used to have were consuming me. Those questions that never seem to have a clear answer. I always end up weeping and thinking of our lost love, broken promises and dreams.
Let every letter and sketch in this notebook tell you what I have been longing to say. Let every erasure cross out the pain and resentment in my heart and soul. Let every sweet-nothings we used to write remind us that yesterday was the time of our lives. Let every existence show the exact emotions that embrace all the unbearable truth and lies. Let your conscience let you eat nostalgia. Let all of these make us, maybe it's just me, forget the supernatural past and move on. Maybe we're better off this way. And perhaps, I'm too good for you.