checkchocolate*

a piece of me; it used to be.

I hate to think that I might've, by accident or choice, left a part of me behind. Or I never left in the first place. Should it be so, I don't want to know. For the decisions I made then; they're all supposed to lead me to the most I deserve, the best for myself. So it irritates me to think that I might've been happy with the way things were and I could've embraced this supposedly bliss till today but greed/discontentment got the better out of me. No, how was I supposed to be contented with the way things were? By logic, freeing yours truly was a decision never to be regretted. But that day, the floodgates opened to let not just memories, but also self- doubts, in? And just yesterday, I remember laying wide awake thinking how I missed 6-hour long phone conversations where even the silences fall into place. Bad joke.