It's five minutes until one in the afternoon and here I am drinking cheap beer playing some love song I don't even recognize anymore pretending I don't have a nine to five to go to tomorrow. It's a miracle really, how somehow I still manage to write this text as if I would actually have enough courage to press send. I also have oranges here, the ones you liked to pick from one of the houses down the street. I like to think that the vitamin C in the fruit would cancel out the toxins and unnecessary carbohydrates that came with the glorified wheat juice. That's what I want to believe, that's all I have left anyway, you know-- belief. Belief that tomorrow I'll see fuzzy ponk bunny slippers beside my sneakers. Belief that we can still fix everything. Belief that you would still come back.

I almost called you but I deduced that 1PM is too erly for drunk calls. My friends tell me that this will pass, this limbo that I am in. That the ache-- no I am past the pain, it's the yearning that's the killer. Like you're grasping for a breath that can't be, like the itch to a phantom limb that you just can't seem to shake off. I have dreaded afternoons ever since that confrontation in the living room, my memory of that day is hazy, maybe it's my brain trying to preserve itself. The few things I remember though was that moment you were apologizing about something; the clacking of your heels on marbled floor, and how I didn't even try to stop you. Thinking back, what were you apologizing for, for you leaving me or were you sory that you wont be sorry enough to come back because if you were atleast sincere about it, you should've been here by now. Does that make sense? Whatever, it must the this wretched drink talking already. 

~~~

I miss you and it hurts. The invitations still lay on the table, Sooyoung have told me to get rid of them but I just can't bear to. I heard you're now dating someone, a big hit shot lawyer who just transferred to your firm. God, how are you still okay with this, how can you stand this? I know you need somebody but this just feels too soon.

I want to see you but what would I say when I do? There's still that urge to hug you-- to pretend that you are still mine the same way I am still yours until this very moment. However, the beer's gone warm and summer has long passed--- I don't think I would survive you a second time.