I hope you love someone the way I loved you.

You think you know what love is?

You don't have the faintest clue.

You read one page from my life and claim to love me?

The perfect prologue that you read, that's not me.

I'm the half finished sentences, the misspelled words, the faded ink, that you so carelessly overlooked.

You chose to make home in your perfect image of me,

When I wanted you to find me in my imperfections.

It breaks my heart when I realize I fell so deep for someone, who couldn't look past my facade. 

You think you miss me?

Oh darling, I'm nothing more than a passing thought in your  head.

You call that missing someone?

No.

It's funny. I don't miss you. 

The world misses me when I'm lost in your thoughts.

You think you know what love is.

Oh my dearest, you haven't tasted it yet.

It's not sweet, let me tell you. 

It's got the saltiness of tears, the bitterness of hatred and the sourness of melancholy. 

It burns the inside of your mouth, yet you don't swallow it. 

Love hurts. 

Don't mistake love for sweetness. 

If you did, then you don't know love at all.

It's as if you you're acquainted with my smile only. That's not how it works.

You have to make love to my tears, my anger, my hatred, my melancholy.

It might seem gibberish to you.

But I felt all of these things.

And for you only.

Someday, I hope, you feel this way as well.

I hope someone breaks your shell, the way you destroyed mine.

I hope someone makes their home inside your walls, the way you did inside mine.

And I hope, that they don't leave those walls. Like you left mine.

Because that'll break you. Like it broke me.

And I only want the best for you.

I know you felt something for me.

Something that was momentary, fleeting.

I mistook it for love.

And look where it got me.

But I hope the universe is kinder to you.

I hope if it happens to you,

You'll be able to tell the difference.

But most importantly, my love,

I hope you love someone the way I loved you.