Days

Slowly the days go by. Day one. Day two. Day three. The number of days we don't speak gradually accumulate on my calender. The paragraphs we used to write have become sentences. One day, we might stop talking altogether.

There used to be days where we spent every waking second talking about everything and anything. Now I'll be lucky if you shared anything with me at all. There used to be days where we used to travel half-way across the state just to spend a few hours together. Just to see your smile. Just to feel your warmth. I miss those moments. I miss our stolen moments together.

Those days are gone now. But I'm sure there will come a day when I won't hurt anymore. A day where I will stop blaming myself for letting go and you for not holding onto me. Because I have accepted that our past is our past. It won't become our future. But I will always remember the way you used to look at me. Nothing will change my memory of your blue eyes. Because it always showed that you loved me.