I call it, Love.

I was just wondering if you still think of me?

-Sleep, you’re drunk.

But I sure know that I miss being next to you. 

But we are older now and I’ll be getting married soon.

And I can’t let you be on my mind 365 day of the year.

I can’t harm everything which is waiting ahead of me.

As I’ll be getting married soon.

And it won’t be you!

But some days when my eyes meet that box of petels and photographs which I keep under covers. Away from sun, dirt, and rain. I think of you.

I think of the days we spent with each other finding home away from home.

How I clenched onto your navy blue pants, which you left to me, they still smell you. I think of you.

How I still get confused between taking right or left, trying to recall the difference which you once taught me. I think of you.

I think of those stolen evenings spent leaning on you every day of week, before you could leave the country.

I think of us a lot of times.

But I hope, I hope you look for me in every girl you meet.

Cause, I don’t know if I should feel happy that I’ve known what home was in your arms or bitter.

Because I know, I’ll never be home again!

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