I'd never really thought about what leaving someone does to you. I never really had to. But now, I'm faced with the consequences of that decision everyday. I don't know what to think of it. I'm sad but I don't feel allowed to. I should not be sad, right? I decided to run away. Literally. But hey, I still wake up at night and cry because I did it. I left. I made that decision. I broke a heart. I didn't look behind. I just... Left... I don't even remember. Did we kiss? Did we hug? Did I leave the warm feeling of my embrace on your body? Or was everything cold and broken? It all feels a million miles away. I got on that plane, never to return again. I made that decision. To not look back. To run away. To get the fuck out. Will it ever feel like that was the right decision? Or will it always like me, fleeing, and you, heartbroken? Will it always feel like treason? Because we used to be happy. I remember those days. We were reckless and happy and in love and everything in the world felt right. I remember the warmth of these days. The way the light would fall on you. The way you made me feel like I was everything anyone could ever wish for. I remember. Sometimes I wish I didn't. But I do. I'll probably always remember. It felt like a permanent summer. But now I'm cold with sorrow.