I miss you. I have been thinking about you all the time. I told myself that I will forget you as time passes. No matter how much I would like to pick up the phone to call you, I force myself not to. Because I know that disappointment will follow. I hope that everything has been going well for you. I am really worried that you will overwork and fall sick. I understand that your business is of utmost importance to you. You are driven to make it work. I feel excited for you. But I know I can never be there to provide support for you. I hope someone can be there for you.
Valentine's Day is coming. How are you going to spend it? Are you going to spend it with someone different? Perhaps, you will bury yourself with work. I hope it will be the latter. At least, I can lie to myself that you are burying yourself with work to forget me. For me, I am definitely burying myself with work. Will you know? Does it matter to you how is my life now? Do you know what I wish most now? I am wishing for a bouquet of roses from you on Valentine's Day. However, I can dream on. A dream that will never come true.
Now I feel that I am writing to a person who is dead. Or I am dead to you. I no longer exist in your world anymore. You are a ghost. I can feel your strong presence around me. When I try to reach for you, you vanish into thin air. Your sudden disappearance makes me feel lost. My life ceases at the instant when you decided to move to your next destinaton alone without me.
Why do you continue to return back to haunt me? I yearn for your physical closeness. This yearning is just wishful thinking on my part. I can only occupy myself with the memories that you have left me. You were generous. You never leave me with just a month of memories or a year of memories. You overwhelm me with seven years of memories that we spent together. How selfish are you!
I am like a diary where all the pages are full of you. Now, the pages are slowly torn off. Who am I now? You have left me with just the covers of the diary, just the shell. Now I have become a ghost of myself. My lifeless body carries on with the daily routines. To others, I appeared as a person filled with vigor and energy. Work seems to be therapeutic. But it cannot fill the void in my life now.
I know that I have to trudge on with my life. Do I have any choice? But it seems that each step I move forward, a greater pain pierced through my heart. And I feel that I am walking towards my grave. Perhaps I can come back and haunt you instead.