In the midst of tidying things up,
I've come across the old letter.

That one piece of paper.
A proof that you once were mine.
I was scared of reading it all over again.
But I don't want to throw it away.
I'm still that much of a coward.

And all I could do was crying and laughing,
then crying again.

Why is it when I was so determined to leave, the universe won't let me?