The Promise Of Better Days

To the reader: If this is your first time on my blog, many greetings; If you've been here before, happy returns to you. Everything you read here will be my genuine unfiltered thoughts and secrets, explaining in full detail everything about me, piece by piece. I wish that you read on without prejudice or judgement, for I am not a perfect person, and I hope that you can connect and empathize with my life's story. -Alex

Before you, I rarely ever had dreams. While you were around, I dreamed of you often. After you left, the dreaming stopped. For the first time in forever, I dreamed of you again.

I met you in a cafe with clear glass windows, at around noon. I don't remember if we planned to meet, or if it was coincidental, but we sat and smiled, and you said that you found it odd that we never talked, even though we both wanted to.

Flashback to reality, I guess I desperately want to convince myself that you want to talk to me just as much as I want to talk to you. It's unfair that you left, but even more so you didn't say anything at all before leaving, and that honestly kills me the most.

You can't just make someone fall in love with you, then leave without saying anything; that's the surest, most painful, and slowest way you could ever commit a murder. I don't know if it was what you intended, or if you knew it would even happen, but I genuinely believe that you have killed a part of me.

I still keep track of how long it's been since we talked, and in the 21 days that it's been since we last talked, you've still managed to make me cry every day.