Loving you took up so much of me, I forgot how to be myself. I am now so different from before, unkempt, a mess, incomplete. You taught me how to love. You were the first, one and only person I fell so hard for, I lost myself.
I miss you everyday. You used to be there for me all the time. We did everything together. We ate, shopped, watched movies, walked, talked, explored, laughed, argued, got mad, annoyed, binged, flew kites, everything. You were always, and still is, a part of me.
“There are ghosts in the walls and they crawl in your head through your ear.
I think I saw you in my sleep, lover, I think I saw you in my dreams you were stitching up the seams on every mangled promise that your body couldn’t keep.”—La Dispute - Such Small Hands (via dirtyprettything)
My hand and yours, entwined. Then you’d lift yours up and if mine fell, you’d say “Why didn’t you hold my hand tightly! Lock it in mine now!” And I’d refuse and do the same to you, and you’ll lock your hand tight with mine and say,
When I was used to work as an ice cream girl you’d come in the evenings and accompany me till I knock off, even when it means you being alone with your laptop being bored. I’d feel tired of work all the time and you’d sneak me lip kisses saying, “It’ll be 11pm soon!” I looked forward to the few minutes alone with you after work. I’ll pester you for 5 more minutes, 5 more minutes, or that you can only flag down the 6th empty cab. These are the small things I’ll always remember, the small things that mean the most.
I was upset that we didn’t go out on a date. You went out with your friends instead. The whole day, you kept asking, “Are you angry? Why? You shouldn’t be.” and “Okay, be very angry!” I was so annoyed that you were poking fun at my misery having a lone Sadderday being at home. Night fell, and you called saying you were waiting for me downstairs. You came with Royce’s chocolates, and bought me a pair of Dr. Martens 1460. You even bought Hello Kitty Instax film. I was so excited, we spammed it all on May 2. It was a good pack, and turned out great. I love pictures with you, of you. You were the loveliest to me.
Our photos, they’re everywhere. My wall, planner, Facebook, blog… What am I supposed to do with all of them now?
2 semesters ago I always had lovely Tuesdays, I only had a 2-hour art class and you’d meet me after, every week. We’d walk a few mrt stations from town just to have my favourite chicken rice and Rochor beancurd. They were my ‘Tuesdays with Deq’.
Every other week I’d paint my nails all sorts of designs, polka dots, stripes, bows and glitters then show them off to you through BBM. You always say the same thing to make me smile to myself: “It’s nice!! Super nice!”. In one of your LLMs (long long messages), you said I was your girlfriend who “loves to flaunt her pretty nails to everyone”, and that might attract other guys. They might or might not be, but I was only ever attracted to you.
My iTouch’s Notes application seemed made for you. All the heartwarming notes you write for me, with our inside jokes and your feelings in text. Your love notes. One time, I tried to peek walking by and got caught red-handed. I pretended to not be interested when in fact it’s the last thing I am: uninterested in you.
In the cold of the movie theatre, being surrounded by your arms were the best place to be. When the cold got too much I’d tuck my knees beneath my chin while you discreetly try to crack all my toes. I dislike cracking my knuckles, fingers and toes, but I let you do it anyway.