OKAY

I'm wondering how far I can push myself into someone else's life to the point that they realise they should be pushing me back out where I belong. 

Here, let me help you: this is the point. Unclench your fists and wiggle your toes, darling. 

Relax. 

I know how to read between the lines.

I'll take my leave then. 

Not a break, not a pause. 

Let's put a full stop. 

You can close this chapter and turn a new page without bricks in your shoes, without blood in your ink. 

Thank you for loving me. You can stop now.

PRESENT TENSE

I didn't know when I started to hate a series of alphabet.

all I know is someday I woke up in my desk with hands stained with inks and the words I never got to finish making shapes in front of my eyes—and suddenly, I hated every word with series of e's and d's in the end of it. cried. hugged. adored. trusted. loved. every damn words with e's and d's. I hate it. I hated the word hated. I despise it.

because e's and d's have the power of changing every meaning I want to say. because those silly alphabets hold the chance of making everything to stop existing. to make everything seems like it's long ago in the past; forgotten.

those silly alphabets made me scared to read your texts. that someday you decided to use those alphabets in every continuous tense you used to use. I'm afraid that someday your fingers pressed d right after you typed love. I'm afraid you'll used those alphabet to change every meaning of I love you's and to make every feelings to stop existing.

I'm afraid of the power that alphabet can ruin. I'm afraid you'll change I trust you to I trusted you—like you didn't anymore. I'm afraid one day I'll read your text where it used to show 'good morning, I love you.' to 'good bye, I loved you.'

up until now, I'm still so so so afraid.

because now you've moved on, and I still love you.

present tense.

EPOH

I hope it wasn't you. 

I hope it wasn't you who kept being there every time I needed someone to talk to. 

I hope it wasn't you who called me when I was at the lowest point just to hear me crying to 3 hours long. 

I hope it wasn't you who kept checking up on me just to made sure if anything happened. 

I hope it wasn't you who made me believe in myself. 

I hope it wasn't you who yelled to my face, screaming of how beautiful and worthy and incredible and unique and amazing, and how stupid I am for not realizing it, everytime I degrade my self-worth.

I hope it was just her and not you, so I didn't have to question myself, "How could I not have these kind of abstract feelings for you?" because you're simply dangerous, that you knew there's something wrong even if I didn't say any words, that you always had the nicest words to say, that you touched me without even using your hands.

You gave me the kind of feeling that every single writer has no words to explain and I can't talk to you without even think of how I wish I could go back to when my heart had not been touched by your words.

I've been hiding this for too long–someday I'll tell you that you're one of my best-est person and maybe I'll need you to know it's a lie–I hope you're not seeing this now.