There are still mornings I wake up thinking how it's going to be like if you were sleeping beside me. There's this scene playing in my head whenever I go crazy lonesome. But I am handling it better now. I used to confess. I used to tell you what I'm feeling or contemplating. I used to not be able to sleep when I don't tell you. I wanted to lose my mind with you hoping you'd take my heart again and treat it right this time. I was mad in love. But now, I guess I'm better. Last night, I cried a little when I remembered "us". I didn't text you or call you. I just cried. A little. I know I'm not completely healed. But I know I'm improving slowly. I read somewhere that slow progress, is still progress. I strongly believe.
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