Love happened to me the way everyone tells you it would "When you least expect it". On a sunny Saturday morning, as I looked for a place to live, he answered the door and I found myself falling in love.
For the next ten months we shared a roof, space and bills. We got to know each other and to this day I cannot believe I could be able of loving anyone that much.
These days I think I see him, sitting at the train station, or crossing the road or even sitting in a crowded cafe, its his memory that haunts me, its the thought of him, the pain of remembering, the sweet, sweet pain that keeps me alive, keeps me going.
Its the sadness that drives me to tears while I stare at the road from the top of a building roof, tall enough to look into the distance, to the place where you and I used to hang out. From here I could end this pain so I would never think of you again, this burden, this grey, heavy sky above me.
Why did you leave? Why did you never love me?