Today I finally wrote.
I wrote about you, and I, and us. I wrote about the first kiss, the first touch. How we held hands the first time. How innocent and sweet yet scary it was. The time when I had felt something flutter inside me while talking to you. And when I finally saw something in your eyes. From this to now. Everything. Each moment, each pause, each breathe. Every doubt, every thought. Every color. The sunsets and sunrises I saw with you and without you, within you. The nights we spent apart yet together. The days we had carelessly given away to passion. Conversations, thoughts, ideas, words, yours, mine, ours, theirs. Sacred secrets, shared jokes, hidden delights. From the beginning till the end... or whatever one may call it, I wrote it all.
And then I burned it and watched it go up in smoke, like scattered stars at dawn.
I let it go.