That little voice

Maybe it isn’t real

Maybe it’s just a euphoria

Maybe it’s just an excitement that one would feel in a summer love.

Maybe it won’t last long.

Maybe it’s just from the old memories.

Maybe I’m just not satisfied because I wasn’t the one who called it off.

Maybe I just wanted a payback.. sort of a revenge..

To make him feel what i felt.

To make him suffer with each memories we made.. the way I was.. the way I am.

How every corner of the street would remind him of me,

How every laughter would hurt his chest as it carved my image on.

 

I really hope that was it.

 

I hope it would fade.

I hope that I would get over it soon after I went back.

I hope I no longer seek for his voice or the image of his face.

I hope I no longer wait for that figure to show up and surprise me again.

I hope I gave up that false hope.

I hope I did not hope.

 

I really thought I’ve moved on.

 

I thought I got over it.

I thought I have walked my own path.

I thought wrong.

 

How I still care.

How I still want to hug him tight

How I still feel my heart twitch when his smile fades

How I still believe.

 

I pushed him far, so far, to the back of my mind. Little did I know that it’ll come back and haunt me twice as bad as it did.

One thought on “That little voice

  1. The more you get hurt, the stronger you’ll become.
    That’s one paradox of life.
    Another paradox is, the more you give, the more you get.
    Oh how I love paradoxes.

    I’d better leave, while I’m in love
    (an old song from Selena Jones, lyric of which I just get to understand, after half a century of my life).
    So, my dear, much much more in life you will still face and learn.
    Kopf hoch (that’s German……)

    Like

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