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So, this is the end of it. The part where I’m supposed to collect the things you left at my place and vice versa. But I know us too well, we don’t do that kind of things. We just leave those things untouched, collecting dust. Years later they will look like the index page of our good times and bad times.

Unlike Min Green, I don’t know why we broke up and I don’t have anything to put in the box, The only boxes I have is those tiny ones I draw on my sketch books. Each box for each sadness. They aren’t that handy if you wanna put tears inside, but somehow the wires inside me were abused enough, I no longer shed tears when my heart got broken, pretty hardcore, huh?

Well, the business of heart is something I can’t quite figure out, maybe I’m a bit slow, but what I’ve learnt so far is that romance does me good. I hope you don’t experience the same thing.

This would be the first unsent letter to you. Expect more.

– Me

note: this is purely fiction and has nothing to do with my current life.



  1. i want more post like this please *ngatur*

  2. expect more. muahahaha.

  3. Anjir. Kalau warna ini udah abu2 gelap bener :(

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