While I was rummaging my Google Drive for files, I saw our folder that contained our pictures.
I've long forgotten that I stored our pictures before, just in case I've deleted these accidentally to increase space. But of course, that never happened. I was the sentimental one. Deleting those pictures would mean... the end of us. And we did. Or at least I did end things between us.
I still have our picture when we went to Timezone and took a photo in that machine. I've been thinking multiple times to burn that since it's the last thing that connects us. I still have it because it's the last remnant of our relationship. You didn't give me any gifts for me to keep, so at least I have that.
Is it now the time to burn that picture? Who knows. My neighbors have a lighter, and it would be quick to dispose.
And now, looking at our pictures before, I felt something. Was it disgust? Was it pain? Sadness? Longing? I don't know.
I immediately clicked the Delete option.
And when I thought of our relationship again, I saw what went wrong. I saw what made me happy, or at least I thought I was. But I never felt the satisfaction of being happy with you. I've always wanted more because you never gave that.
Maybe we are meant to end this way. For me to realize that I wasn't doing the things that makes me happy. For me to wake up in this trance that I would be happy without doing so.
I don't miss you anymore. I've forgotten the feeling of being in love. With you. With anyone. I've lost the feeling of being myself in this world.
Deep inside I'm just sad, right? Or is there more to this empty feeling?