Happy endings are myth

The wind is blowing through trees outside and I wonder when I’ll see you again.

The moon is shining brightest tonight, but something still doesn’t seem right.

There were days when you flick my hair back from my face and I feel like I’ve been brought back to life. Now my hair is messy and always on my face, fragile, brittle, just like me, trapped somewhere in solitaire….

I needed to get up but my alarm forgets to buzz.

I wanted to speak out but my mouth is dry, without words, without lips, without a final closing kiss.

You are gone and I am haunted, I am trying to be strong, but it’s too difficult when everything’s going wrong.

 I can still hear you, as if your voice became every breeze and rock song that passes my ears, your footsteps ricocheting in my heartbeat. 

I can still see you, as if you were only gone for a moment and right back to me in the next.

And I can still feel you, as  if you never left, as if you were all around me everywhere i go, as if we were okay and the world was okay, as if the sky wasn’t missing a star.

My soul is missing a lot of its pieces and it's too hard to go chasing after them,

so I'll just let them go and pretend that I'm okay.

Because if I pretend long enough,  maybe I'll start to believe it.

Maybe there’s still hope for sun.

Maybe one day I’ll get over him. 

Maybe one day my love story would have happy ending. 

Maybe some stories don’t have happy ending, or maybe some stories have just blank pages in the end…