I miss you. Every fucking single day. Time passes by, but nothing seems to change. You're still my first thought when I wake up in the morning, and the last one before I fall asleep at night. And I hate myself for that. I hate myself for thinking about you and missing you, when I shouldn't. After everything that happened, I just wish I could forget you.

But it's like if you're impregnated under my skin and no matter how hard I wash it and scrub it, it just doesn't go away.

Sometimes I have the bad luck of encountering someone wearing your cologne on the street, when entering a store or during my commute to work. It's sudden, like if you had just passed by me. And it's awful, 'cause a simple smell can bring everything up and hurts a fucking lot. After all, you can't put your arms around a scent, you can't touch a memory.


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