It started when you read some of my stories. I wrote fiction. Close to my heart. About a hero. A murderer, actually. The guy who killed for fun and called it justice. The guy who was fake to all and everyone loved him. You said you liked the weird sense of humour he had. I told you I am kinda like that. You smiled. I saw through it. I knew you were sad. I was worried. I didn't want you to be sad. I told you that I care for you, darling, don't push me away. This is not a fairy tale. You and me are meant to be. I'm just trying so hard to make sure you're okay. This world is cruel like me. Just tell me if anyone's hurt you in any way. I'll burn them without mercy. I promise, my baby, this is not a fairy tale but for you I'll make sure it feels that way. What's up? What's down? I have lost the sense of direction. It's a pity I got you that teddy bear. We were so close to perfection. I asked you out that day. You said fine. I was happy. Perhaps that was my mistake. My shitty writing made you feel good. Though the thing I should have told you was that I am not my writing. I'm me. You're you. We're fast paced. Messed up. We were looking at each other. I did fall for that smile. I regret it. It rained. It rained a lot. We started out real neat. It was simple and so clean. And you had quit smoking. It was fun. Relaxing. With you life felt so comfy. Oh I love your smile. And the way you look in my eyes. I love the way your hands touched mine. And once when you were scared you said you were forever mine. On my birthday, you got me a cake. On yours, I gave you a kiss. You said you prefer cake. It was bliss. Not the cake, the kiss. The cake was okay. We made each other happy I guess. Yet I felt restricted. In writing I expressed it. A long text message it was. Then the thumbs we moved so fast for trying to keep what won't last. A whole week passed. Never said a word. Another week passed. I thought of a plethora of adjectives, but 'I am sad' I texted. You read it. And did you smile? Did you feel like saying 'I was right'? Did you squint your eyes trying not to cry? I was there waiting for your reply. I waited for an hour. Then another. Then three more. I put down my phone. Looked at the moon, it was so alone. It did have stars around it. But doesn't a natural satellite prefer company of a natural satellite. The stars were shiny, sure, but what if shiny isn't what the moon liked? My phone beeped. 'Me too' I read. Maybe I should have continued looking at the moon. But I replied. Things got back to how they were before. Though I wasn't really happy. And maybe neither were you. And then another long text message. This time I made you cry. And I wondered if our love was a lie. But me pondering stuff didn't matter. The next day we were back together. I promised to never make you cry. I promised that in me you'll see a better man. I told you I keep my promises. You smiled. I saw through it. In the end, I realize I am what I write. As I squeezed your throat, you looked in my eyes. Goosebumps. I squeezed harder. I love you so much. You made a funny face. Don't know why it reminded me of your birthday. That whiteforest was good, though. I lit a cigarette and went out. Yes I'm fine. No I'm not crying. I wiped my tears. Yes I was lying. I miss you already. It had to be done. Atleast you aren't sad now, right? The moon looked so bright. I fell in love with the natural satellite. It reminds me of your smile. I'm looking at our photos. Even the ones when we first met. There's something I just realized. It wasn't you, it's always been me who looked sad.