"it's raining", a smile etched on my face as I begin to see raindrops fall heavy on the ground. "and my coffee is just the perfect bitter", I added. I always like to pretend I like my coffee without creamer, when I actually think it tastes better when it's sweet.
Maybe it's the way I try to survive.
Because sometimes, the easy way to save yourself is to tell a lie. To give yourself the idea that the things you like is just a false picture in your mind so you don't lose your sanity...
And it has always been like that with you â constantly convincing myself that I'm better off without you, when you're actually the very thing i want to embrace.
Well you see, pretending is so much easier than facing reality. Acting completely fine is so much better than realizing a world where you're no longer beside me.
For all we are now is a crumpled love note on a drawer that I used to read over and over again until the pages worn out.
How a love that once sounded like eternity, suddenly turn into wasted ink on sad poetry.
But we always believed we would make it, though.
We always believed our names will be written down in history pages because our love was great.
And with my whole heart, i held onto that â too much, that i carried your love in every door i walked through; too much, that it became the only thing I held on to.
In fact I still recall the night we first knew love; I still remember the night we told the stars about our love, and how we promised we will always be.
"When the day comes when we no longer complete each other sentences, i hope you continue to tell them about the days we still did", i said. "i will always", you mumbled as you tucked my hair behind my ear.
But just like every other tragic story, our love didn't get the chance to meet a happily ever after.
Because love suddenly didn't seem like it was enough, anymore â so love walked out the door.
I know it's been months, yet I still mourn the promises of a love that's never going to be.
But just like sweet coffee, I like to pretend I no longer want you â trying my best to talk myself out of loving you;
Because I know a day will come when hearing your name will no longer hurt.
When another rainy day comes and I'm sipping on black coffee, and forget why i wanted it sweet in the first place.
â excerpt from a book i will never write
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