I looked at your message,blankly.I did not feel excited nor happy that someone actually made my attitude the turning point of the story or my humilliating moments as the climax.As much as I hate to admit that my fingers do linger for their tips to get a slide of the front cover,I killed curiosity and buried it beside the cat that it had murdered.
As far as public sees us close and definitely a team although petty arguments even about food never end,deep inside I feel very distant.It only took three years for me to become someone else.Crueler,with a soft spot.Stronger,even my heart had shredded like paper.Look how time changed me.See,how your words shaped me.They taught me that how hard I wanted people to stay,sometimes they are so eager to leave I can't get a grip of them.I let you,but the figure of yours are still there,somehow waiting for me if the world slammed me at the back or my tears needed full attention.You used to be home,and you still are.You told people that you wanted me to back away,so I did.I didn't really,either.I would run back to you to ask for a helping hand in juggling with new explorations that I'm unfamiliar with,or anything.Whatever you write in your book,I do not want to know.
"I'm scared to know the truth".
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