Today was eerily quiet. There was a moment when I got an SMS, and for some reason I thought it may be you. This gut feeling came to me and I checked my phone. It was an automated message.

Why weren’t we Facebook friends? I would have enjoyed chatting with you. It’s so strange. I was daydreaming that we went to a park, had a beautiful sunny day and talked about all these things that we were too afraid to do or mention. I wish I could ask you some things. Like what you thought of that conversation we had after I got back from abroad and we woke up in the middle of the night and discussed the topic of planning our future together. I wish I could make you aware of how much these things haunted me. How much they were on my mind but how afraid I was of your rejection, or worse, your dismissal.

I wrote this novel just for you
It sounds pretentious but it’s true
I wrote this novel just for you
That’s why it’s vulgar
That’s why it’s true