I miss you. But I donβt have any idea how and when to talk to you, even just to text you with a single βHIβ I guess I donβt have the balls to do it. I feel like Iβve damaged you enough so I donβt have any guts to face you though I really want to. I guess I am so ashamed on what Iβve done to you.
And you cross in my mind so frequently, and every time I saw the lamp post through my bedroom I always remember you, itβs like you are constant light through the night that compliments the beauty of the empty street because you see the best out of the emptiness.
"The Remembering" - T.S.

















