I haven't felt depressed in almost over three months or so. I don't know. I want to feel sad, I want to feel happy, and I want to feel content all at the same time. Plus, Midnight is down, making me feel even more wistful.
I thought things were going for the better, but that was only what I thought. Past the facade of smiles; past the foyer of happiness lies the small, little anteroom of memories. A tiny peek to those little fragments of the past made my strength evanescence into the cold, lonely night.
I have liked a friend of mine, however I tried my best to suppress the feeling because I know the feeling wasn't mutual. I managed to strangle the feelings inside me until it withered and died. But I was wrong: after seeing him again, the feelings resurfaced and gaped for air; only to witness the truth that he likes someone else.
I dislike liking a friend. I really do. It's as if my memories are kidding me: things in the past are slowly becoming things of the present.
However, these pains are bittersweet; invisible reminders that we are alive, deeply desiring for security and comfort in the painful ironies of life.
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