Dear Blanc

Do you still remember the time when the smile of mine will only shine when yours was up? Or not, because you have another one to grow when you do smile?

Back in the days when our hearts were both young, we used to praise each other. I praised you because you were so blanc back then, in the language that love commonly used. You praised me because of my skills, my thoughts, that you think of something like blanc in the language you really like.

Three or four? I don’t know. But those hearts are now mature enough to distinguish the real from the fake. And you know what, I am so proud of you because you easily distinguished my love for you as the fake ones.

Another thing, thanks for reminding me that not those you meet along the sidewalk are for you. Some are just persons that don’t really care for you. Others are people that really care but will eventually leave. I’m glad that you belong to nothing of the two, as you are the type of person that one will definitely meet, hooked upon on, laughed with, and cried with-but never stay with.

Although my love is fake, it will still be the most genuine fake that I have seen- the only thing that I really love despite being counterfeit.

And I hope love will definitely make a way for you to grab the realest of the real, for you deserve it.

Domo arigato!

innerlich