Fulltime lover, you said.
Yet, when it comes to love talk, you cowardly turn your head away.
I remember one time we were sitting on your porch that night, you smoking on your cigarette and me sipping on my tea. It was peaceful, I remember. How the crickets accompanied our silent night while you kept on sighing a little too frequent just because you were stressing out about something. You never told me what it was bothering your mind. Maybe I’m not good as a keeper. Maybe I’m not trustworthy of a person. Maybe I’m not…
But you released those puffs of thin smoke into the air as if you let out your emotions all at once. You’re not a heavy smoker, I reckon. But when it comes to stuff you don’t want to share, you’d rather smoke those thoughts away. You thought it was easier than to tell people about those stuff.