A Tribute to My By-gone Lover (1) Three years, one year together, two years over the distance, difficult perseverence to an empty end. Yet random memories scattered in the corners linger, and come back to haunt me in each silent night and emotional holidays like this. You wouldn't let go until I agreed to go out with you. You sound thrilled every time I give you a call or a text. You always arrive early on our dates. You'd smile at me when you catch the sight of me. You insist on taking my hand in yours at any time. You pull me behind you when crossing the road. You encourage me rather than discourage me. You like to kiss a big cross on my face. You tell me I look best without makeup. You don't like me to die my hair or paint my nails. You make me think I can look worst in front of you and you wouldn't give a damn; I can be the craziest and you'd still cheer me on, and you still love me as I am. You adore my hands, feet and toes. You'd even praise my breasts which I feel self-conscious about. You make me happy with being myself. When I speak to you, you either play with my fingers or look at me full of love. You'd kiss my tears off, softly. You like to surprise me. You bring snacks and sweets to find me in the library and sit besides me, watching me while I read. You keep getting me yogurt and jelly, things I used to love, until they gross me out. You learned to make jelly yourself and made a stack of it for me. You care what I love and what I hate. You save up meagre salary to take me out for a decent meal. You order more than I could eat. You call me several times a day. You always let me hang up the phone first. When we have a fallout, you keep calling me and sending me texts until I give it up. You panic when I cry. You know how sensitive I am and stay clear of all the other girls. You never shouted at me or lost your cool with me. You took a knife with you when picking me up at night. You insist on walking me home and then running to catch the last bus every night. You always ride an hour's bus to come to my school rather than letting me go to you. You disclose your childish facade to nobody but me. You'd text me to tell me how much you miss me and hope I'm there when you are hanging out with your friends. You show understandings to my parents' evil remarks to you. You take them all over when you see me carrying heavy bags. You let me sleep in the inner side of the bed.