Dear K

Hi. It's been eight years already since we last saw each other. It's been seven years since I last talked to you. And it's been almost five years since the last time you tried communicating with me again. I've been counting, yes...Truth is, ever since I met you, I started counting.

 
It started when we first met. I counted to the days when will I meet you again. Then we started to be textmates. I counted the minutes when will you reply back to my messages. Then we became really close and I started to count the hours I could spend with you. And you never missed counting the months we've been together. And then we broke apart. You left and never came back. Although you did, but not for me.
Are you aware that there came a point in my life that I regretted counting all those things?

But I was still counting after regretting. This time, I was counting again the time until I will finally get over you. It took me too many numbers, too many days, months, and years. And then I missed counting one day. And the following days and weeks after. Until I forgot I was still counting the years left before I reach 18. I forgot that I was waiting for someone's promise. I eventually forgot about you.

Sometimes memories still haunt me. It wasn't painful in the past, but it hurts today. It's been eight long years already but I am still reaping the consequences of the mistakes I made.

I'm not writing to you to let you know that I am still thinking about you. I am done with that, long ago. And I am not even writing this letter to send it to you. I know you will never even know about this. This is just one of those nights that you sometimes slip in my mind because the present is reminding me of you. And I hate that it's happening to me again - too much counting, too much thinking. Counting the days of finally moving on. I just had to write something so vague that only the true recipient would understand it.

PS. I don't feel any kind of remorse anymore towards you. You are forgiven.

Always,



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