Poland Aug 2014

After my accident, one of my Romanian colleagues told me "Smell is the best trigger of memory". I turned away and said "It's true". That was the damnest truth. There was a sleeveless T-shirt that was washed at your flat that I kept with me untouched, just because there was the smell of home, the smell of memories about you. I missed you terribly, more than I could bear.

I came back. Accidentally, you were still the one that picked me up at the airport. And unexpectedly, I had a chance to return home. I remember every details about home, about you but I can't just remember my feeling about you. The girl that I was completely in love with, where are you? An. She was sitting at the balcony, smoking cigarette guessing me that I don't remember her. No, I will never forget her who broke me into pieces last year on my last day in Poland when I made an effort to return home.

I was right. That 1 week at home 1 year ago was the only week that I could feel the same. After that, things will be very different. I'm glad that I had nothing to lose and gave my all. Gave my all to you.

If there is one thing I wish I could erase from my memory after the accident, I wish I forgot my memories about you.

"Home is where the heart is". I had a place that I felt belonged.

I don't belong here anymore. Coming back just to make me realize that even how much I tried to be a part of your life or M's life, I can't. Not even as a friend. I'm sad because you were the truest feeling I've ever had with someone, K...

"At some point …you have to realize that some people can stay in your heart but not in your life."

Fate

Some people meet each other even though they stay thousand miles away. Some make friends, some remain just acquaintances.

I believe in fate, but only in first time meeting. Later, it's a choice. How many chances one person can have with their fate?

I'm coming home in 2 weeks. Please, brook, don't get broken by the same person twice. She made a choice, and it wasn't you.

Home

There's a place I call home. Where I could watch her sleeping everyday, so near yet so far. Where I see her playing with her son and say "I love you" to him. Where every morning, with the radio is on, I see her beautifully simple when cooks breakfast. Where he extends his hands just to hug me when he thought that I wouldn't come back. I love his mother. Home is where the heart is.

I'm coming home in 1 month.

But it feels like shit too knowing that there's nobody waiting for you in that home anyway...

Mine?

..."Years come by and still. Words don't come easily like "I love you, I love you". But you can say "Baby, baby can i hold you tonight? Maybe if I told you the right words at the right time, you'd be mine"...

You'd not be mine even I did :)

Broken

The worst wound is the scar in your heart. Sometimes, I wish you were still alive, so I could remind myself how it still felt like family between you and me, and that I wouldn't be alone in facing & solving bro and mum's argument. And that I wouldn't need to be my brother's "mother". I would know, there would be at least 1 person to hold my hand and tell me "Everything is fine, you don't have to worry about it". I miss you dad, now, more than anytime