People don't always come back to you if you want them to. That's something I learnt from being with and without you on countless different occasions. But somehow the pain still manages to sneak up on me when the lights are off and when I walk past the places we shared memories and smiles, and sometimes I still feel your lips on mine when I pray for the pain to stop. It seems that mourning continues months after I last touched you and felt whole. I wish things turned out differently. Maybe then I wouldn't be writing a poem about a love story that fell apart before our eyes. We crumble when we least expect it. And I guess this is where the story ends. Because now I'm the one hoping by some miracle that you'll call or text me or something so I can know that this heart break isn't one sided. I promised myself I wouldn't feel this way. I thought I was capable of holding it together. But the truth is that I can only hold on for so long before I can fall apart. Another truthful statement is that I miss you. More than I should for the crap you put me through. And when people ask about you I lie and say how terrible you were. But all I keep thinking is how those two years that I knew you for, were the best two years of my life.