Why am I writing this? Because there’s too much silence and too much noise at the same time. I think of everything that has happened and my insides can’t seem to be at peace.

You were my first. In everything. That was 4 years of discovering and finding out many firsts. I thought I was happy. I felt I was happy and then one day, I just woke up and finally decided I don’t want to spend my firsts with you anymore.

Now it’s been 4 months. I’m okay now. It’s just that at those few times when I’m all alone, that’s when I really feel I am alone, that’s when I confuse missing you and missing someone to make memories with.

I miss having someone to talk to when I’m overly excited, genuinely happy or devastated. I miss having someone to share what’s going on in my troubled head. Someone to eat with when I crave for my favorite food. Someone I know can spend the next long weekend with me. Someone I can be silly with, no pretensions, just purely being true. Someone there.

I thought it was you who I miss.

It was that someone who you used to be. That someone who I am patiently waiting for now.