When the memories begin to fade, it aches.
I remember that time we were talking about something in our life,
That one day that changed my boring days;
How about you?
Do you remember those?
Those days that turned into nights;
Chat, smile, nervous, late night talks.
Another question popped up in my head,
Were those just fake?
Maybe all of those were fake,
Because this is a fake world;
With fake people,
And really,
It is really hard to trust someone these days,
But why am I still trusting you?
Does ghosting mean seen?
Does it mean ghosting?
Because that is what you did to me,
And one question,
Was stuck in my head:
Do you remember me?
Do you remember that day you confessed to me?
Do you remember you said you fell to me?
Do you remember you told me,
That even if it is fake or real,
You would still care for me?
That spark, that feeling?
Because I remember it clearly.
Days, nights, weeks;
Two months have passed,
I thought I had moved on,
Not until I heard that song –
That song you sang to me,
And those memories began to drift my head;
The day that we were exchanging voice mails;
Your voice was pretty,
You were very good at singing,
And you told me my voice is cute.
Does admiration mean liking?
Does liking mean admiration?
Because that is what I feel for you,
And one question,
Was stuck in my head:
Do you remember me?
Your narrow eyes,
I want to see it;
Your gentle voice,
I want to hear it;
Your jokes,
I want to smile at those –
Again.
But those are just faded memories.
Could not we just be like before?
Is this feeling really girls' feel?
Really – boys do not care about what they did,
About what they say?
You said you are not like that,
But why have you become like that?
You said you have not become like that,
But why are you like that?
I guess I am really not that type of person who is worth staying for;
I am boring,
It is like I am the only one holding on.
And November came,
It was your birthday;
Stuck between would I greet you or not,
But I chose not to . . .
Because you do not remember those,
We would not just be like back then;
Now – it is different,
It will be more complicated,
I guess, you are happy with what you are doing and feeling now.
Does the end mean final?
Does the final mean end?
Because there,
Our story began –
Our story starts,
But in just a little spin,
It ends.
And one question,
Was stuck in my head:
Do you remember me?
It is late,
I am late;
Really late to tell you,
I like you too –
Because those are just faded memories.
But even if our story just ended like that,
I want to tell you:
I will not ever forget you,
Because you are the first and the last,
You are that successful one in this fake world;
I will miss you,
Those memories . . .
I will try my best for those to not fade.
I hope those are not fake for you,
Because those are real for me,
But even if it is fake;
I still like and admire you.
I remember that day you confessed to me;
I remember you said you fell to me;
I remember you told me,
That even if it is fake or real,
You would still care for me;
That spark, that feeling;
I remember it clearly.
Please, remember it . . .
Those memories that have faded,
Please, remember me.
