Once I would read your journal word
for word,
Even the most trivial things were treated like treasures.
Sharing with you,
Being with you,
Laughing for no reason at all.
You knew everything about me,
And I kept so many of your secrets.
We could talk until the early hours of the morning,
As if we never ran out of topics.
But...
But...
Later, we slowly lost contact.
By the time we realized
Time is a thief,
It had already stolen
All the endless words
We used to say.
Occasionally meeting,
We can only smile awkwardly,
Exchange a few pleasantries,
And then no more contact.
You must think that heartless me has forgotten the past,
You think I no longer see you as important.
Then, you surely don’t know,
That I often dream of that sky we once looked up at together.
Dear old friend,
And dear person who was once so close to my heart.
Not reaching out is not because you aren’t important,
But because I am so afraid,
That I am no longer important.
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