It used to feel like dreaming, except I did wake up.
It’s been almost four years now. I could still remember the way you smile. I can still picture the twinkle in your eye whenever I tell you how much you mean to me. Your laughter is a ghost that constantly haunts me. I miss the talking, the nonsensical chats, the secrets exchanged. I miss how you can remember every detail of the stories I shared. I miss how you can sense my mood even without me talking. I miss your arms around me. I miss everything that we’ve lost.
No matter how much I try to squeeze your very existence into this teensy tiny box and shove into the deepest corners of my head, the memory of you gets out, piece by piece like a stubborn little kid who wouldn’t stop playing. At times, I delude myself into thinking that I have successfully wiped you clean from my brain. But then I would hear this one song, and then the moments we shared would just flash in front of my eyes like a glimpse of recorded videos. And then I would become all miserable knowing that I failed, yet again.
I guess it’s because you were my first in everything. You were the first one who have reached into my very core, in the deepest, most personal way. You were the first person I learned to depend on without any doubts. You became my confidant, the one I fully trust. I grew so attached. You were more than just a boyfriend. You took parts of me and I took some of yours. As cliché and corny as it may sound, you were my puzzle piece.
And when all of it ended, you took that one important piece which, up until now, is a gap that I can’t seem to fill. Yes, we might me “friends” right now, but every time I see you and spend time with you, I can’t help but imagine how it would be like if it worked out between us. Whenever we talk and laugh at past jokes and memories, my mind wanders to an alternate universe where the puzzle is still complete, intact.