I have been counting days and I am waiting for the 89th day after February 22. If I may remember, that day was supposedly a happy day. Beach. Family. Foods. Drinks. Break-up. And that odd-man-out thing explains why I have to wait for the 22nd of May.
I do not know why I have to wait for three months to finally move on. I do not know why I allowed myself to be boxed with that idea where in fact, there are other fishes in the sea. I do not know why I have to be haunted in my dreams, awake and asleep. I do not know why every time I see you and hear something about you…
But I have to look at the brighter side of the then incident. I have known the ‘real’ friends who knew so well how to listen and tap me at my back. They have proven how numbers of beers ease up the problem for an hour. And that is more than ‘warm-hearting.’ Hahahaha!
Three months is so soon. Three months is enough. Three months will soon be over.
“See the months they don’t matter. It’s the days I can’t take when the hours move to minutes and I’m seconds away.”
I’ll continue to count days ‘hopeful’ of the liberation (at least partial) I’ll get at the soonest time possible. Surely, I am not looking for it but I am ready to fall.
p.s. Happy birthday gray!