Selasa, 14 November 2017

Memoar






"That history and memory and the ghosts of our past are sometimes just as tangible as anything we can hold in our hands." - Meredith Gray
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I'm not trying to-be-a-drama-queen-over-anything but there are too many places which hold the memories of you and me, us (if us ever existed), this is one of those. This is the place where we used to sit for hours and talk about anything. From a general unimportant thing to topics which too damn private, which I know you tried to hold it back.


"Don't get too close with this girl who I feel like I was talking to one of my sisters when I talked to her." You thought..and you failed at keeping it that way.

Since we moved to another class, I never went to this place, but unfortunately I must sat here a few weeks ago. The second I saw this place from upstairs, I was choking. The second I sat here, I felt that the hole is not a ghost, it's real.

You said memories are just memories. There isn't something special about a thing or a place. I really wanted to be like you. I do. Love makes us strong and it also makes us weak.

I write about us as a reminder, this is not gonna be the only one and I know you don't mind it (like you don't give a fuss with everything), that I am beyond grateful to have you in my life. That I am happy that I spent my days with you. The feeling remains.


*fyi, that's his green-grey backpack and hat

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