i have a moment in my life, where i could think about you everytime.
like every seconds in each day, literally.
then cry even litres of tears just because having you in my mind, and that was just never enough.
like i could ignore everything and stand still doing nothing, but remembering you.

im trying so hard to move on, i feel like there's just too much that time cannot erase.
feels like there's nothing that can cure the wound.
i never knew how hurt it was until i finally found it out by myself, that life can be so cruel, and i didn't even realize...
yes, this is too cruel.

that day i came home early, i've finished what i had to finish.
then again, i thought about you.
it's been awhile...
i went home alone, ignored my friends, i always wanna be alone when you fill my mind.
i decided to visit you.
i then walked and walked, the time runs so slow if im on my way to visit you.
people stared.
i didn't bring my umbrella which always opened to accompany me along this street.

i finally reached you.
and i didn't cry. are you proud of me? i didn't cry at all.
well, for a second my eyesight did become blurry and watery...
but, i didn't cry, did i?
there was no tears stream down my face.
not anymore.
i won't cry for you anymore.
i've learnt about letting go.
well, i was the one who pray to God to take you right in that time, so that you wouldn't feel any pain anymore. so, why should i be the one who regret the fate?

are you now in peace?
are you now sleeping tightly?

after i cleaned every dried-dead leaves above you, i went back home.
i walked away
the air was so soothing that day, and the sun was really nice.
how i wish i could really meet you there, would you give me a hug?
i felt funny on my way home.
i saw people doing their activities like nothing happened in that mourning place, while there must be someone like me who visits their lost-love desperately.
how this life keeps going on, huh? i felt something's unfair, somehow.
but still, the wheather calmed me.

i looked through the window in my way home, searched for you in every corner of the road. hoped that i could find you.
you see? it started again. and i hated it.

there was a mother that didn't really catch my eyes at the first time.
she has a high-toned voice, and she sang a song to her daughter.
i didn't know the song, it tells about butterfly.

"your bag is opened" she said.
"it is?" i confirmed.
should i care, father?
should i go back and search for my goods that may fell out while i was in my way?