Hi.
I’m sitting here on my bed, smoking a cigarette, thinking about that fleeting love. Thinking about what could have been. It’s funny how I wait all year just for this date.
You had the face of an angel, but my heart was already rotten.
Maybe distance killed what we had. You made me feel things I thought I had forgotten I was still capable of feeling, but, now I know I can't feel them anymore, maybe I never actually did.
October. The 11th of October. A date that was already so special to me, and I made it even more special because of you. This same day is our anniversary… Well, it would be if we were still together.
I wonder if you still think about me. I noticed you checked my Instagram story once, but it’s been a long time since I’ve heard anything from you.
I don’t miss you. I’m not capable of feeling that. I probably just try to think of what love is so I don't end up losing what's left of my humanity.
Still, I hold onto some resentment knowing you took such an important date for me and ruined this day, but, I already lost enough time thinking about love.
Love and hate,
Martín.