“I think what hurts the most is when you could no longer remember how she looks like. Even though you had so many moments with her. Like how you always have to pretend like you’re listening to her stuffs when you’re all but distracted by her beautiful face. When she breathes and talks but you feel only her soul. When she teases you for her own entertainment and you feel honoured being able to make her smile. When she cries out her frustrations and leans on your shoulder and you felt her heart beat.

When you sensed she’s leaving cause you knew she has distanced away from you. When you acted like you didn’t need to care but deep inside you could well be whining like a fucking baby for her not to take one more step away. When you knew she had to go and you did absolutely nothing about it. And all you wanted was to have the perfect painting of her face in your mind. The curvature of the lips, the shape of her eyes, the outline of her jaw, the wrinkles at the sides of her smile. You imagined yourself like fucking Picasso and painted her with all sorts of colours. Just so you could make her a masterpiece. Just so you know she was the one who completes you. Just so you could picture yourself with her one last time that you once spent your life with this drop dead gorgeous girl who had a soul that enchanted you in every single moment.

But at the end of the day, what hurts? When you lose that fucking canvas. Plunge it into the water. And when you picked that up, you see those watery paints flowing down your wrist resembling tears dripping down your very own cheeks. Why? Because at the end of the day, you still don’t fucking understand why you couldn’t have done anything. How you just stopped by and watched everything resume. You couldn’t understand why she had to leave. What’s worst of all, you let it happen.

You painted her like a glorious goddess and you watched it flow down the river you cried.

When you thought you had her and the next moment she’s gone. When you thought everything was good and presumed things would carry on. When you acted like you didn’t care. When you pretended like nothing’s ever happened from the start. When you let her go.

The face you so wanted to engrave in your memory. Now it’s blurred.”
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