Dear XXX,

It freaking hurts. It hurts so much that I'm troubled 24/7, I've a hard time concentrating on even the very first lecture of the semester, I've insomnia and the unfaithful heart wrenches at the most subtle reminder.

I'm hurt and guilt-ridden baby. I've since come to dread meeting you in school so much that every semblance of you (ALL guys in shorts and cap combi) will never enter a 10metre radius from me.

I know there's no way that you're hurting less than I am.

I'm sorry...but I wish you'll appreciate that I still care a hell lot. And more than anything, I want you to be happy.

And, if it isn't too tall an order, I hope we could be friends again.

Love,
Vic. |

about

Currently eighteen, and waiting for my angsty phase to run out. I'm a slave to books, to unfortunate circumstances like "exams" and "assignments". My expertise is my 100 decibel scream and barking laughter. I'm profoundly in love with NYC, and there isn't a second in which I don't wish for a life there.

This is not entertainment nor a place too seek for deep musings.This is the highly selective, highly biased, highly opinionated account of my life. I just write, as I feel. No, not think. Feel.

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