ｓｃｅｎｔ

I sit alone in a dark room, where the shadows seem to stretch endlessly. Every day bleeds into the next, smudging together, making it feel like one miserable day that refuses to end. It has been 207 days since we last spoke, since I last looked into your eyes and said, "Bye, see you later." If only I had known that would be the last time I would see your smile, the last time I would feel your presence.

I have no memory of your voice or your scent.

It's as if we never happened, as if all those stolen glances and shared moments were figments of my imagination. I kept telling myself that if it was meant to be, the universe would bring us back together, but even the universe didn't want us together. Now, you walk past me like I'm a complete stranger, like we never shared anything major

I can't close my eyes without you invading my thoughts. I cry and cry, hoping the tears will exhaust me into sleep. Little did I know you'd be haunting my dreams, lurking like a creep

could i let this happen to me?  I swore I never become this girl-the one who loses her appetite at the mere thought of someone else. But here I am, starring at my own reflection that being

the girl i swore i wouldn't become

All I ever wanted was one more conversation. I cried to my mom, asking her why I am this way, why I can't let go. But that was 207 days ago.

I've learned to cope, or at least I tell myself that have. I tell myself it's just not meant to be, that I'm over it. But deep down, I know I'll always look for you in every person I meet, hoping that the smallest thing would bring me back to you.

Love is the most profound emotion one can feel, and yet, it's all in our heads—a tapestry of scenarios made up from words left unsaid. The crazy thing about love is that it makes you believe in the impossible, makes you hold on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, the universe will conspire to bring you back to the one who got away.