Past is Past

I know it's hard to be you.

Oh no, I don't know how it feels to be you, yet I don't want to know, even feel it. 

I pretend to know that it's hard to release something, oh no, someone, and everything you've passed for years. Probably it would be harder if it was your very first experience. Probably. 

But I shouldn't care. 

Last year I just, something like "Okay, maybe it's your first year to release those everything" 

But this year, it's your second year and still, you can't release any of them. 

Seems judgmental  but it's actually clearly seen from the way you deliver your words, which means there are still many things left with you and you obviously still, keep them inside your head, or your heart - whatsoever. 

I don't know, whether I do wrong or not. Maybe I shouldn't care so that I have no things to think about you. But it's just happened, and I'm not stupid in comprehending your words. Right now, the only thing I want to do is to shout in front of your face that past is past. But surely I can't do that to you. I have no clear prove, and you must have many rebuttals, haha. 

Talking about you (again) perhaps will pump my  mischievous creativity. I'd better stop. But I can't promise I won't write again, since there's probability that you will write those kind of past emotion over and over again. You know, I actually can't forbid you. It's just, I don't like knowing that you hardly release "them". I wish I wouldn't be a girl like you if someday I get the status like you get right now. I wish I could stand stronger and easily release "them".