Bring me some new diary… without the old scent of sunshine and longing and sweet forgiving, and I’ll try to write my life without him, without anything from him, without anything about him. Straighten the pretty stationery of those teens which know nothing about love. Make sure that the paper is of different shade, of different hue, just like my anticipated life now. Throw the key of my old little diary for no one remembers what happened, no one knows I’m already awake. Nothing should ever be the same as my bitter before. Nothing should ever be similar at some point or another. Bring me a pen and ink which doesn’t fit very well to my hand for if it does, I’ll just remember the bittersweet touch of his fingers tangling mine. And I will start sleeping all over again into that soft bed and comfortable pillows of isolation. I don’t know when I’ll wake up. I don’t know if I will ever wake up. I cannot lose the same battle twice. I just can’t.
Switch to a new song of a new beginning. Burn that mix tape. Break that music player. Destroy all of his notes, all of his painful chords. Close not just the chapter of that life but close the whole novel. Close the entire book. Tear every pages of that thing. Throw it to the fire. Never leave a thing for if you do, I might sleep again and I don’t want to be on that state of hopelessness, on that insensitivity, on that emptiness inside. Do not cure my amnesia. I want to stay this way. I don’t want those nightmares to control me again and hold me to my throat where I can hardly breathe and call for some help. I don’t want those ghosts of him to haunt me every night when it’s late and I am all alone and kill me with insomnia and excessive thinking and endless longing. Don’t allow them to see me once more. Don’t allow him to hurt me one more time. Never again… because for the long run, I feel so pathetic to run around the circles of his planet, never realizing that I am hiding from myself for he is still in my heart, in the core and essence of my being and existence. Never again… for in the long run, I feel so exhausted to sleep deeply and pretend not to be bothered or hurt or even notice but deep inside, I am all opposite. I don’t want to take those antidotes again. Never again… for in the long run, one look and one smile from him shall put me to a deep sleep again.