Second.

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So. Yeah.
Here is the thing.
I can’t really complain and ask “Why would God let me to know you just to find out that we cannot be together (at least not for another 22 months)?” like they do in those love songs.

I can’t. Cause I know why.
To show me that you can actually meet somebody and it is possible that it just clicks between you two.
That you can suddenly meet somebody that gets you, that understand why you do things you do, simply cause he believes in the same things.
That it is actually possible to come across somebody amazing through a combination of a seemingly random events, but you know perfectly that there’s no such thing as coincidence.
That it is actually possible to meet somebody and suddenly the word commitment is not as scary as it was before.
That you can, and you will – if you have not – meet the right person.

I know those stuff. I can’t ask that question.

And it kills me now,

Cause I start to read articles about perfect man and somehow I always picture you although I don’t even know if you are indeed that perfect.

I cuddle with another person while watching movie about human relationship, and I keep going back to those days that we spent together. The first kiss. The moment we stared at the sky and you showed me Orion Belt constellation. The moment we solved a misunderstanding by talking fairly about it, without hard feelings whatsoever. The moment we could just lay side by side, doing our own thing and it was okay. The moment we had fun playing Uno and finished the whole deck.

I keep thinking about what could have.

I keep thinking you are this perfect person, and I keep regretting the fact that you might become the one that got away.

Can we have a second chance?

Second visit – 30 days, doing things together, from the exciting ones to the very mundane ones.

To actually prove whether we can get along THAT good, or it was just spur of the moment.
To actually prove whether we are that perfect for each other, or it was just our head playing games on us.

I wish for a second chance.
And I wish for a courage, to actually tell you this. 

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