He is leaving, officially. I knew this was going to happen, we knew, but why do I still hate to admit the fact that he is leaving? He's gone - not just him, but also a part of me. The better version of me, the happier version of me. If not now, all that kind of me will die soon, with some last memories to consume. Someday he will update his Facebook or Twitter - I hope he will - and I will leave some comments about it. He probably will like it and ask me how I'm doing, then I will say I'm fine, how about you. We will just pretend nothing has changed but really, everything changed. I wanna yell out the pain of loss, but instead I let it out through words, cause I know both ways will lead to tears, and neither will bring back the summertime, which really hurts like a motherfucker. I would like to turn the sorrow into words, turn his goodness and kindness into words, turn our intimacy into words... and wish one day words can be turned into him staring at my face, rolli...