Today, after a long time, I wore your favorite dress of mine. The red one. "Red suits you," you used to say, with a smile. "Awe you wore red today," you used to coo with the same red tinting your cheeks. Now, I wore this, and I couldn't make out if it is the color or the stains of my crimson blood that seeped through the wounds of my heart that is so red.
Yesterday, I listened to that particular song, like the day before yesterday and the day before. I paused it, replayed it, for one particular line, your favorite line. It didn't caress me like it used to nor brought a smile. I made a playlist of your favorite songs because am pretty adamant about breaking my heart, again and again, so they would at least dare to moan your name in pain and I would be happy to listen.
The night before, I stayed until 3 am, like every other night I did after you left. I stay even the sleep knocks my lids off, cuz am afraid the dreams will haunt me and am afraid I will miss the conscious reminiscing. I think of you most of the day, but nights, nights hit me differently. They will tear down all my confidence, my facade of moving on, and tears me up. And the wet pillow, wouldn't let me sleep, cold, unlike your embrace.
//If I were to change something in our relationship, I would kiss you more, hold you more, stare into those eyes, and would say how much I love you every given moment.//