If This Was A Movie

If this was a movie, will you come back right now just because I call you so?

Will you knock out my door? And when I open it, will you hug me passionately?

People say, sometimes you miss the memories, not the person. The theory works out on me. I miss every little pieces of our memories; the way you told me why leaves turned yellow, the way your eyes spoke more honest than your mouth ever did, the way you acted insane just to make me laugh. I miss those movies we watched together secretly, too, though I always ended up laying on your shoulder, sleeping. I was glad and proud when you let me see you cried for the first time. You, and your fragile weakness behind your cold act. But after you'd gone, why those memories weren't the same anymore, even if I did them with other guys?

Hey, you know that I'm an absentminded, but why does myself never forget to remind me how much I love you? Why do I never forget those lyrical song and rhythm of your guitar? Why do I always remember that you made those songs just for me?

Until now, I still wondering, is there any other gentleman who will open up the door to let me in, saying, "You look okay, as ever." Yeah, you never called me beautiful or pretty. You always called me "okay." But those words splattered perfectly of your mouth. And I always did feel okay. You knew exactly things that increase my mood.

I still remember the dark times, too. When you were never here when I needed you so. I always reminded myself that time, that this game was just like any other hero game. You always flew away to save other people's day, and heroes always think of other people first before they could ever think about their girlfriends. In this way, you completely look like Superman. But if you could be Myman, why did you choose to be Superman?

You were the one who made me in love with Michael Bublé. You were the one who realised I love white rose more than red rose. You were the one who pressed me uncontrollably and I wrote four novels for you. You know, every single time I listen to Taylor Swift's music, your shadow are jumping out at me, teasing and reminding me that our story were flawlessly a masterpiece till I tore it all up.

I'm sorry for all those things.

I love you.

If I only could get you back.

If my memories could be solid, not fade.

But I know we are never ever getting back together, even if you and I want to.

I know we weren't meant to be.

I know it shouldn't be a painful story anymore.

And all I can do now is just playing back memories, asking the sky the same question.

Why?