Agnes,
I am supposed to write something here for you, I think. But as I
try to think of what to say, I am lost for words. I suddenly
realised that there's still SO MUCH I want to say. So much that I
don't know where to begin, so much that even I myself am surprised.
I don't suppose, though, that there is any use in those words I
want to say now- you've moved on.
I thought I have moved on, and indeed I have, but only half of me.
The other bit lurks in the depths of my heart, occasionally coming
out to haunt the me in daylight. Almost two years. Six hundred and
ninety two days. I thought it was a "happily ever after", but it
was only an "in the end, it doesn't even matter".
Should I be happy that you've moved on and found someone else, or
should I be sad that the us that should have been forever isn't
so?
The wine glass hanging below your name signifies my willingness to
lose myself in you, be it just memories, or otherwise. The many
letters I sent, and received, signifies the love that once was. And
the tears I shed, signifies the thousand things I want to say, but
didn't.
If I can choose a moment to last forever, it would be the moment
you embraced me in Wisma Atria.
From Zed.
