I am already exhausting every brain cell left in me to finish this thesis paper and you just had to bring yourself up inside my mind like a ghost trying to haunt my every being with the remnants of who you were.

And since now that you have my attention, let me tell you that I have seen you blossom in your field.

I can also see the fact that your business is flourishing, I am terribly glad for you.

And yet as I view the photographs you’ve taken after I passed by, I see exhaustion from your eyes.

You no longer looked like the man I fell in love with 7 months ago when I first messaged you “¡Hola!”

You look older, far older than your real age and I’m starting to doubt the images painted on the canvass of my mind, for in it you look as youthful as you were 10 years ago.

You looked like a free soul and I love every inch of your promiscuous ways. I loved the fact that you laid out all of the aces before me like I could never steal them away from you. I loved the fact that you called me beautiful with the slurs of your tongue sounding like waves crashing on to the silent shore. I loved how you wanted to strip me off of my clothes and take me out to have some shots with you. I bet if we kept those words, we would have made an unforgettable scene at some obscure corner, laughing about how people would dress and walk. I loved you.

And it’s nice to hear that love and loved co-existed.

For I have no regrets in loving you and I have no regrets in affixing the ‘ed’ now that it’s been 4 months since we last spoke a mutter to each other.

I will never forget the way you smiled when I first called you ‘dear’ and I hope you don’t forget how much I was willing to give it my all that Sunday you called me ‘yours’.

Let your ghost haunt me for as long as it wants but let the ghost be at peace on his grave for the heart is not a place for it to dwell on any longer.

The heart works diligently for the living, for the flesh, for what is here and you’re not.

You are not.


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