Second chances. Fuck, second chances. That’s what most people say. But why do some of us still hope for that one last chance? Maybe because things have gotten better or maybe we have changed our ways. Is it really worth it? Or is it just like any typical story that will end the same way it did before?
It has been approximately 751 days, 18, 024 hours, 1, 081, 440 minutes and 64, 886, 400 seconds since you left. I can’t believe how time flies, I can’t believe how long it has been and I can’t believe how I’m still surviving. Since then, I stayed up late and think to myself what went wrong? Was it you or was it me? But me, myself don’t know the answer to my own questions.
It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy to wake up without seeing your name in my inbox or messenger. It wasn’t easy to go on Facebook without seeing a notification pop-up from you liking all of my posts. It wasn’t easy to eat without you reminding me to do so. It wasn’t easy to get better when I’m sick without you making sure I took my meds. It wasn’t easy to go to bed at night without you saying how you wish we sleep on each other’s side. It wasn’t easy doing all the things I used to do without you taking part of it.
I know you’re doing very well now and I’m happy to see that. But don’t forget that I will always love you during your darkest nights and brightest mornings.
And If one day, you feel like you need me there or you feel like it’s finally worth fighting for? I will ask you once again, “Can we give it another shot?”.