I miss days where we take turns in asking how’s each other and what have we been up to lately even though we stopped seeing each other. Now it’s like I don’t even exist anymore. Some days are easy, some days are not.
"Flowers gathered in the morning,
Afternoon they blossom on,
Still are withered in the evening,
You can be me when I’m gone."
— Neil Gaiman
I miss days where we take turns in asking how’s each other and what have we been up to lately even though we stopped seeing each other. Now it’s like I don’t even exist anymore. Some days are easy, some days are not.