╾ 17th

my poet artist came home today. finally. after 3 months. i didnt knew how i'd react, i kept thinking i'd either be nervous or excited. thankfully i was excited and i came home to see it, touch it. the last part of you...

its so beautiful. it breaks my heart bc of a million reasons but its beautiful. your work is beautiful. you did so well all the time in every and anything you did. its brilliant. i'm scared now but i wanna hear the songs. i wanna know the lyrics and i wanna hear your voice. i'm not able to watch the mvs, i dont know when and if i'll ever be capable of watching. i'm still broken and fragile. i feel like a broken piece of glass, if you touch it the wrong way, it'll be shattered in uncountable pieces.

and i keep thinking... the album arrived today. 3 months, and its here in april. your month, our month. one day before the 18th. everythings just too connected. i wanted to carry your album around tomorrow and just remember you and stuff but i'm afraid of it getting dirty or something, its better stay here in my room, untouched.

and by a matter of destiny or something that i dont know, i'll have the last piece of you with me tomorrow. its going to be a hard day but maybe holding your album at night... maybe i feel closer to you? or maybe it'll be more painful, i never know how i'll react.

my mood's been terrible since monday and i know its because my mind and my body already knows whats coming. tomorrow... how come time passes so slowly yet so fast?