The Lost

There are things I don't do anymore when I lost you.

Each feeling contains the infinite feeling of emptiness; the irony of holding inside the things which I remember about you and I and I do not feel them being there at all. That is your vague presence in my life, I breath in them.

Losing you means that I will never be able to listen to our song the same way again. My heart won't flutter, bursting into joy of being in the middle of all the sweetness. It now means listening to it again only refreshes and drains me, holding on to memories as if they were the edges of knives and I bleed as I reminisce.

Losing you means that I will look outside, half-heartedly hooked with the real scene. It doesn't mean that I'm amazed at how the fast city lane evolves or how the lights twinkle and glow. I look outside because I was thinking, I could have been staring at the same place with you. We could be stuck at that same moment too.

Losing you, means nothing but being lost in the vast ocean. It's being lost at night gazing at the evening sky, and in a minute the stars are gone. And now as I lost you, I am a moon to your sun. We never meet, we'll perhaps never meet again.

Guest Writer #2: Frances Siaga

• ·         Age: 15 years old
  About me: Nationwide writing champion, frustrated mad genius, accomplished couch potato.
  Favorite quote: "You all smoke to enjoy it, I smoke to die." - Alaska Young; Looking for Alaska