The best song I ever wrote to you, the only song that actually captured all of my thoughts, had no title. I referred to it as Song fourteen. You used to sometimes ask me to text you a few lines from it. I’ve even whispered it once you we’re asleep. It was one of the last nights we spent together. You were restless, tossing and turning and I couldn’t seem to ease you. So I softly stroke through your hair, whispering the words alongside your left ear. A few weeks later you let me lose by writing an e-mail. Or actually, replying at one I wrote you. You couldn’t have been more selfish. You couldn’t have changed more. Now I don’t know you from the girl that used to linger around me, so insecure, so sweet and pure. I’m curious to see if you still have that touch of innocence in the look of your eyes. Honestly I think, maybe know, you don’t anymore. Maybe it’s gone forever, or maybe it’s meant to be found again someday. I’m still trying to be strong, everyday. And every day I fail. Because there hasn’t gone by a day I haven’t thought about you. At night, it’s the thought of you that sooths me to sleep. And in the morning it’s the remembrance of your smile that gets me going. I still haven’t figured out what exactly it is you have over me, since you’re far from the greatest girl I’ve ever met. Your flaws need more counting than all the stars upon the sky. And your promises meant nothing, even the empty ones you managed to fail. Thanks to you I lost all my hope in trust. I lost track of reality, I’m running back and forth between two worlds. One is my safe spot, the other is what I let people see. A superficial, shallow go between. Because still, whenever someone gets close, in what way so ever, I push them away. Looking inside, trusting, is not worth the pain. Because no matter how much you can trust someone, they’ll always be in temptation to bring you down. I’d rather lock all the doors than leave a key at the doorstep. But only for you, my door is wide open. Just like the song. You’re the disease I try to fight, but know I’ll always lose. There’s so much I wanted to tell. So much I needed to get off of my chest, but never got the chance to. Opportunities, yes. But I couldn’t. God, how I wished you were there to ask all the right questions. Where were you when my grandfather died? Where were you when I failed my first year? Where were you when my aunt died, my entire family got threw upside down, my parents went through a major crisis? Where were you when I got beaten up and had no one to talk to? Where were you when I broke all of those girls hearts? Where were you when I needed you. You promised me. Promised you would never leave. But you did. You left. I still hope, that one day you tell me you know you were wrong. Love can go away, I know. And I don’t regret you for leaving. I regret you for using, manipulating and abandoning me. I found my way here, I did, quite smoothly actually. But you should’ve been there, for support, for comfort and most of all safety. You should’ve let me down easily, not have dropped me at once. You should have called after a month, after two months, after you used me once, and twice. But you didn’t. I’m in remote, keep repeating the cant’s, but that’s you. I hope you’re happy the way you are now. Because you seem even less mature as when we were together. You’ve gained to years in age, but lost four in reality. And you know you shouldn’t smoke. Not because of her. It’s doesn’t suit you. But I do hope it fills all of the gaps of guilt left in your heart. And for one true wish to stay, I really hope you somehow, someday find a way to be who you are. Drop your guards, face the mirror. Because you can be so much more. And even though you never were that much, I still love you.

I was thinking about a lot of things that day. Contemplating whether or not I was in love. That, because of the nausciating feeling I had since two days. And maybe because I couldn’t stop thinking about her, or her. Or well, her. I tend and try to forget about the blondes, the brunettes, maybe even the reds. But it’s always easier to try than to actually do. Because every time one of them crosses your mind, you relive the moments of well, let’s say, joy. Ultimate happiness. The never-ending point of freedom I’d like to call, an orgasm. It’s the scent of a woman, as sang by many artists. It lingers around you, all day long, until you wake up with it again. It’s her wit, her touch, her lips that make kissing such a hell of lot easier. It’s her soft skin against yours, it’s her hands that make you crave for more. It’s just her. In maybe the purest of forms. It’s things I don’t want to think about when I’m somewhere around my parents, but things I can’t help to think. It’s just how the mind works, or at least, my mind works. On my right side are a few recent files stashed, files containing lots of memories. Memories of you, including a few threats. Like it’s my goddamn death sentence: you. Even at times you don’t know it, you’re killing me. Slower every time, different and far beyond intended. You wanted to. You wanted to kill me, with every word that came out of your mouth, every step you took towards me than what away from me, every breath you took around me, was meant to. You didn’t want me. You wanted to feel loved. You’re in love with being in love. It’s somewhat not really working, the internet is slow. My typing even more. Most of all, it looks bad. It’s just random venting. I wish I didn’t have to. I wish I could just watch dumb, numbing series without actually thinking about it afterwards. I wish my mind wasn’t Cali fornicated right now. Even though I know it’s just a reflection of who I am, a dirty old bastard. But then a few plus twenty years younger and with the fe- placed in front of male. No, I’m not a slut. Nor a hooker. I don’t do things for money, I do them because I want to. Because I like doing those things. I like always getting what I want, I like beautiful women waking up beside me. I like giving, but I love to take. I seem to love breaking hearts, it doesn’t actually bother me afterwards, even though I say it does, it don’t. I don’t feel sad, because I went through exactly the same. Maybe I feel bad though, bad for the girls who’s heart is going to be broken because I broke yours like your broke mine. It’s been one day now. A few people called, and you sent me text messages. You reply awfully quick, and when you don’t I tend to get a little insecure. I think that’s because you’re the first person in a long time that actually makes me want your attention. Yesterday I rode my bike around the town, the villages connecting each other to a soon to be metro pole of the north. I thought about how people change and plans get changed. But in the end, everything changes but you. You’ll always stay the same to me. Or at least in my mind you’ll always stay the same to me, you never change. Your hair never goes from dark to blonde. You’ll never wake up to anyone else but me. But well, you kind of did. I wish you had left already. I wish I didn’t catch glimpses of you, of your work, your family, of us. I watch the airplanes rise, I watch them fall. Like I will watch yours, that last Friday of January. I’ll watch that big white thing rise from the ground, I think I see your face, which of course I don’t and I’ll wave you goodbye. It will be the last time I’ll ever stand there, on that specific rooftop. I won’t say hello to your parents, nor your sisters and certainly even not to your girlfriend. Perhaps I’ll write you a song, scribbled down on an old piece of paper. I’ll take tiny little sips from my coffee so that the chance of staying in that moment longer will increase. I don’t know what it was I was trying to find. I don’t know what it is I am trying to find. I’ve lost my objectivity quite a long time ago, and I don’t know if I will ever make it. Make it through tomorrow, through today or through this year. I know I’m lucky for just being here, lucky for having all the things I have. I know I will rise and fall. And that people will watch me, perhaps writing and sipping from their coffee. I also know I will not be the next William Faulkner, Salinger or Kerouac. I don’t know, for the love of God, why I’m writing something stupid in retarded English. I guess I just felt like a writer tonight. I guess that all the things I want to say about you don’t matter anymore. And maybe this piece is a reflection on that specific subject, you. Amen.

I'm a suspect, I'm a traitor, I'm only here in body visiting. Yellow faces in the distance screams, "The beauty is in what isn't said," I'm rising to my feet, Because tonight, the world turned in me. Because right now, I don't dare to breathe. Oh, babe, I know, it's alight and somewhere for us to find, Tonight, oh chase this light with me. My just so, my last call, My life is yours in your gifted hands. Confetti rainfall in a quiet street. These things I've found are special now, The knot is in my reach, Because tonight, the world turned in me. Because right now, I don't dare to breathe. Oh, babe, I know, it's alight and somewhere for us to find, Tonight, oh chase this light with me. A movie, still photograph, Through a martyr's eyes can I see, I've seen the best of love, the best of hate, the best reward is earned, And I've paid for every single word I ever said. Confetti rainfall in a quiet streets. The beauty is in what you make it, So get up on your feet. Because tonight, the world turned in me, Because right now, I don't dare to breathe. Oh, babe, I know, it's alight and somewhere for us to find, Tonight, oh chase this light with me. Because tonight, the world turned in me. Because right now, I don't dare to breathe. Oh, babe, I know, it's alight and somewhere for us to find, Tonight, chase this light with me.

And you try so hard not to cross that line. And I’m sorry but I think it hasn’t changed the way I feel. And I know I can’t come closer, but for now this is close enough. Just to watch you when you think I don’t, to be talking when no one else is around. And I can’t, and I wish you couldn’t either. Give me your touch, tender, I want you. And I, I can’t get over you. Yeah I, I’m still so in love with you. Are we the same we were before, and the same we’ll always be? Hey, now will you ever say that sometimes you still like us to be more close than together. Yeah, you could be all I need. I miss you. I love you. Baby, I'm so, so sorry. Oh, God, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it. And I just can’t seem to hate you, but that’s because I love you, like you said. I’m still amazed by everything you do. And, if there’s a chance we could make it through, would you tell me? And I can’t, and I wish you couldn’t either. Give me your touch, tender, I want you. And I, I can’t get over you. Yeah I, I’m still so in love with you. My confusion shows whenever you get so close Between friends and something more Is this all we’ll ever be? And all I want is for you to change your mind, Over and over I fall for you Why do I cry when you don’t even try? It’s perfect blonde dancing with the wind. It’s folded grey, it’s her eyes looking back at me.

Playing hide and seek? Playing my favorite game. I'm sucker for you, you know that. And yet, I still can't tell you how I feel. I know I can't be just friends, and I wish you couldn't either. And I know you know what I feel. But yet, you don't respond to any of it. And I'm just so sick of lying and denying all of that. I just need to find the most perfect way to show you I'm the one for you..