Letter to his next gf:

Please remember to make him coffee every night after work, he likes it with a spoonful (or less) of sugar and it has to be with milk.

He likes head massages, not to hard, slightly ticklish.

I hope you buy him 2 tangoes and ward mid for him. Hes so good with invoker, you’d never want to watch anyone else again.

He likes you to wait for him at home as he comes back from work; give him a hug and don’t let him eat too much macdonalds.

Ferrero Rocher is kind of like the most convenient chocolate that he likes. Buy him plenty because he gobbles everything.

Nuzzle his cheeks and kiss his lips because they are so soft. He’ll love it.

He loves to sleep. But he’ll love to lie beside you whilst you do your stuff. Just be quiet as he is a light sleeper.

Always shower him with praises, because he always think lowly of himself.

I hope you’ll shower him with plenty of patience, love and understanding because he isn’t a social creature. He will keep things in his heart and just drown in his own negative emotions if you don’t ask him over and over again. He’s very insecure but extremely observant, so he knows what you’re thinking and feeling even without you saying it. Watch his Chinese dramas with him, it’ll make him happy. Cuddle him to sleep because he’s a snuggler. Don’t engage in infidelity.. you will really break his heart. And lastly, don’t ever buy him branded stuff. Buy him computer gadgets or steam credits. 😉

I can promise you, if you give him all of the above, he will be the best boyfriend you’ll ever have.

Sadly, fate has it that our affinity has to end. So I hope you can love him more than I had.

_________________________________________________________

Emptiness seeps in, a relentless trickle,
like death, with his unforgiving sickle.
I wished to unlive, yet at hell’s door,
Satan whispered “Living will torment you more.”

It was that one, of a thousand roses,
that pricked me with such lethal doses.
With our dying waltz, as tears clouded,
I tore his thorns out of skin that smarted.

Was it not, poison that tainted my lung?
The fumes exhaled, of his beauty I sung,
Why had it to be, two in a tragedy,
One to move on, the other with no remedy.

Did we all choose to be in love with pain,
or was it that love definitely came
With one full jug and one bottomless jar,
And the acquiescent heart for the fuller to mar.

Blogging on a sad Saturday night. With the empty room, not even Lycan by my side. Oh… sorrow. Sometimes pain hurts so much we sink into a masochistic thirst for more.

I hope you will always be happy.