zugzwang

i can’t seem to stop reading your old messages.. it’s been two years and i haven’t earased it yet in my inbox.. perhaps it’s too tasky.. or maybe i value your messages that i spare it a couple of megabytes of memory.. i don’t know.. i don’t know why i keep indulging myself with the jokes we shared and the topics we talked about.. they were pretty corny come to think of it but i enjoyed them and even laughed at them.. things change.. you have changed.. i have changed (perhaps that is why i find them corny today).. and we don’t write each other anymore.. it was such a loss before.. and it still is today.. hey, people like things come and go..

i can’t believe we talked about these stuff.. things that i know would bore you if we talked about them over a cup of coffee.. these were things i only liked and yet you were able to ride on them.. you made more sense than sensibility.. you actually made more sense than i did.. hehehe.. i don’ t know if you enjoyed reading my messages but i sure did enjoy reading yours.. your messages were like my favorite TV show.. id die if i missed it.. they were like puzzles making me guess what really was in your mind.. your messages delighted me like chrismas presents each day that i read them.. your messages.. i missed them.. and a part of me actually died

i wish i could write you now.. and i wish you’d answer.. i wish i could ask you about your injury you used to have.. the injury we used to talk about.. i wish i could write you again, every morning like i used to.. and you’d send your answer at night.. i wish we could continue what was before.. new messages, because i’m almost done reading six months of your messages.. wish you’d send me a new one.. wish i know how you’re doing.. wish id get the chance to show you how much better of a writer i have become.. how good of a conversationist i am today.. wish i could write you now