You once told me that you would find me happiness before you could search for yours. Words written in a farewell letter that I burned a few years later. It's funny how fragments of memories just decided to float around in my brain when I thought I had finally buried them, in a grave with a tombstone carved with your name.
If only I knew back then, that it was all bullshit.
You didn't even give me a chance to say goodbye with my middle finger in the air.