Tell me that you could find a better way to tear me apart.

Tell me that the page will turn itself, the door will open itself, and the truth will reveal itself.

Tell me that love is just another word which you mean but is never spoken.

Tell me that nights will fade away like how our days are far gone.

Tell me all these tears will line up like the stars and lead us the way to the end.

Tell me that my name is more than a sign when you think of me, if you do think of me.

I have so many things that I need to hear fro your mouth,

to make them decent, to make them right.

But if we ever cross shoulders on the street and I actually get my chance to bring one thing out of your mouth,

the only thing I would like you to tell me is how have you been.

Did the life treat you good enough?

Did the death teach you well enough?

Did all those mess and loss and sadness prepare you strong enough?

How have you been would be the only question that I ask and the only answer that I desire is that you’ve suffered so much since you left.

I want you to suffer, to be honest.

I want you to know what is it like to cry yourself to sleep at night,

with clothes on, with cell phone unplugged, with the door to bedroom wide open.

Still, I believe I do love you, in a horrible and everlasting way.

You taught me how though love could be and then you taught me that you were even tougher than that love,

the one you whispered like it was your last breath, the one you promised like it was nowhere else to be found, the one you made and chewed and left untouched.

But how I wish I could see you again, my love.