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When did it all go wrong? That is something I ask myself quite often lately. Have you and I been cursed such a cruel fate ever since the beginning? Or was it simply by a twist of chance? The nights seem lonely without you there to guide me with those eyes of yours---eyes that I stared into; believing it held everything. I walk past others as I wander away from my problems, and at times I catch myself passing by places we used to visit. 

Sometimes I wander if you visit them, too, like I do. 

A silly thought, but I still hope. Hope is what still tethers me to you, ya know? I have grown quite strong now as the years have passed like the dragging of a knife against delicate flesh. Strong enough to be enough. Yet, we could have been enough---together. 

"What could have been."

Such a pitiful and dreadful phrase. Reminiscing of a destiny long lost. Yet, in the cold nights when all I'm left with is myself, I repeat that phrase more than the breaths I take. What could have been... we could have been together, in the plains of a far off forest---away from our troubles. Away from responsibilities, our families, and our destiny. Our fate would be in our lips; in our sweet touches. 

Whenever I think of you, all I can think about is how I must be like a wandering wind---always searching for something to be settled naturally, but I never really do. I wonder if you feel the same way. Considering how you left me---alone and weak in this cruel world---I don't think our thoughts align very well. I resent you, ya know? 

But I still love you...

Oh... 

... how I love you. 

I think that is the cruelest curse one can receive. 

Especially if it is from you.

To pour one's love, life, and soul into a lifeless man. 

We could have been the strongest together, right? We were the strongest---now I am the strongest. It hurt my soul when I had to stop referencing us when it came to such a title. It felt as if I was letting go of you---letting go of us. Please know I would never do that... please. Yet, it wouldn't matter now, would it? 

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The mornings have grown rather cold. That is something that I am just now noticing. A small thing, really, probably not something that should hold any importance. Probably shouldn't. It really shouldn't. Do you remember, my moon, when you would wait for me beside my bed to walk me to school? Oh, how I do remember. You would laugh as I shivered from the bitter cold---knowing it was all on purpose. I let down my wall to allow a moment of bliss to tickle your heart... even if it made me cold. 

Afterwards, you would always scold me and force a red scarf on me. I had many scarfs already. Yet, none of them are worth as much as yours. You don't know that, though, and that was something I took great care to remain true. You knew I was strong, but you saw so much more than that in me. You saw me.

Not Satoru Gojo---strongest sorcerer. You simply saw Satoru; me. You heard my ugly, unfitting laughs and strange antics. You noticed when I was sad, hungry, mad, lonely... because you understood me. I think I took that for granted. People speak of soulmates, of red strings and fate. All I talk about when it comes to such a topic is you. I believe, in all timelines, and in all possibilities; only you managed to break through my ribs and caress my withering soul with kisses of a damaged man. 

But a man who wholeheartedly loved me. 

I never did see you as damaged. I always viewed you as my other half, as my last sip of water. You were like a burning star amidst the dark galaxy---shining a bright light upon me as if you were an otherworldly man. But, you were burning. I failed to see the ugly in the way you shined---failed to see how, as you glimmered so bright, you were being scorched and drained of your energy. 

I can't help but blame myself, really, for not noticing it sooner. Perhaps if I did... there would have been an "us". We could have rented that house we passed by in one of our missions we saw for sale---paint the house blue and adorn it with plots of violet flowers. You would have gone off to your job, and me to mine, and when we both got back home we would sit on the couch and watch that show we always spoke about but never seen. 

I speak of you as if you are still alive. 

You are... in my heart. 

If it is only there I can feel you. 

Or do you not wish to be felt at all?