The Box.

15 Sep 2018

Maybe we all have this box somewhere  deep inside our heart.

I thought i was okay with it. I thought I've accepted it, accepted the fact that you left and will never be back. Yet every time I allow myself to feel it, to think about it, I realize I never was okay with it. I choose not to think about it because the world is still turning and the time is still passing. Nothing stops when I feel all the sorrow.

I'm still mad at you for leaving without a goodbye, and for not giving me any time to prepare myself.

I'm still sorry for not saying the things I should have said. For not telling you how grateful I am to have you, how much I love you, and how thankful I am.
I'm still grieving though years went by.

I was always fine whenever I push it to the back of my head. That corner of my heart where I won't reach for in day time. Like a box of memories that were kept dearly. A box that I will only open when I feel that it's okay to cry a little. A box that hurts me a little whenever it's opened.

This box of mine... It's so fragile. I am, too fragile. One day I will be able to scroll through that album in my gallery without crying. One day I will be able to think about all the memories we had and smile because they are so precious. I know that day will come. But until then, I will continue mourning.

I miss you,
I love you, thank you, I'm sorry.

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