You look over your balcony as it rains. A perfect example of your mood. You and him weren't meant for each other anyways.

"I'm sorry," he said.

But you know that if he truly loved you, he would figure out how to make it work. Love has a funny way of doing that.

You will yourself to glimpse into a future without him, and you hadn't realized how attached you were. Not much comes to mind. The future you imagined was stolen away by a single moment.

You gather every love letter he sent, every endearing message that you cherished. And you let them slowly fall off of your balcony, a million promises falling to the ground. The paper was now soggy. And the ink was running.

It looked like the love letters were crying.

credit for the playlist: heavensdisaster