The person who sang Michael Buble's: It's Time, track 05, along with you. The person who sprayed his arms with your Natural Wonders MellonBerry perfume. The person who fulfilled your diary with his name in every page.
The person who shot me with that sentence, followed with other sentences which deeply hurts me that time. A huge pain, left a mark which is impossibly to fade.
I'm lack of words to describe about him. He could be.. one of my friend now, if only he wants me to be his friend. I felt various of feeling by being with him. The last, he put a smile upon my face, and a teardrop from my eye. I smiled, because he has finally made it.. and cried, because he left me either.
Interrupted, it's me who left him.
But he's already gone when I came back.
He was the death for me, for a long time. I often drove around his house everyday, yes everyday, and waited up for his window to see he passed by. I stalked him everywhere he went, and asked his friends where the hell he was. I chatted the girls who's being close with him, and successfully made them hate me.. don't you see what was because?
I'm looking forward. Not going backward.
I won't close my book tonight, unless I'll make it done, as you did before.
Vous êtes la meilleure chose que j'ai jamais eu,
merci, all the way.
Votre sucrerie amère,
N.
(this post title is taken from here)
*if you probably know, I'm having no offense to write this post
"Lo udah gede, Nis. Kelakuan jangan kayak anak kecil."
The person who shot me with that sentence, followed with other sentences which deeply hurts me that time. A huge pain, left a mark which is impossibly to fade.
I'm lack of words to describe about him. He could be.. one of my friend now, if only he wants me to be his friend. I felt various of feeling by being with him. The last, he put a smile upon my face, and a teardrop from my eye. I smiled, because he has finally made it.. and cried, because he left me either.
Interrupted, it's me who left him.
But he's already gone when I came back.
He was the death for me, for a long time. I often drove around his house everyday, yes everyday, and waited up for his window to see he passed by. I stalked him everywhere he went, and asked his friends where the hell he was. I chatted the girls who's being close with him, and successfully made them hate me.. don't you see what was because?
I'm looking forward. Not going backward.
I won't close my book tonight, unless I'll make it done, as you did before.
Vous êtes la meilleure chose que j'ai jamais eu,
merci, all the way.
Votre sucrerie amère,
N.
(this post title is taken from here)
*if you probably know, I'm having no offense to write this post
