Among the sweet things people do, what much could be done in fifteen ordinary days? You could just count and then tell me. But had there been a time when fifteen days seemed to be a year or two, I had that time when I was with you. Had there been a moment when I forgot that Eiffel was my dream place, it was the moment when I was in your arms. Had there been a time when the sweetest honey tasted bitter, it was when we met at a kiss. There was nothing more I could ask for, nothing more I could wish but have all those moments to last between then and forever.
What could be more beautiful than meeting the sunrise through your eyes at the welcome of every day? What could be sweeter than sharing a cup of cappuccino under a sky that seemed to be just ours? What could be crazier than a shared indulgence to an irresistible call of seduction? And what could be sadder than all those and all else fated to roll in just one segment of a film strip?
Now, it’s over and done. What do I have to remember? Only all that. Who do I have? Perhaps everyone but you.
Not one promise you made, not one promise you broke. But you left me a scar of happiness – happiness that was greater than any promise you could have made; happiness that was never meant to last. Now if I could take away one bit out my history, I would choose the one I had with you – happiness that was unnecessary and as cruel as how sweet it seemed.
You have done your exit and at that you left me no reason to take a step forward and chase after you. It should rather hurt that you don’t have the right now to ask me how I feel. But to care for what you care about is to be unfair to myself, so I’m left with only one good thing to do – let it go.
Had there been a moment when I believed in magic, it was when I loved you. And there was indeed a moment when I wished I didn’t believe it and it was when without a reason good enough, you left me loving you.