So here's going to be the post I'll never say my appreciates. Cause its The OOMA story begins again.

Because right from the start, I never knew it was you that I liked, it was you that I dreamt, and it was you who was my first. I never did. But now, it seems all the obvious that something had to prove it all-wrong? I couldn't hold on to the perfectly fine memories you created cause its condescending to the bitterhood of the future.
You exist, resulting a conquest to this puny innocent heart. You exist, just to prove this being the pain from falling apart. And, once again, you exist, in the time you're not supposed to.
Everything was at its own pace until you entered and start a heartbeat. Where was I to call for you when the reason was too vague? I only dared to call for a holding hands which was far apart from the real situation. You could only confide me with your fake words, hoping I'd soothe in, whereas, I won't. You'd be the very person I'd ever talked for hours via words and languages. But yet all I feel was uncertainity that grows in you. I no longer held the faith I usually do. Cause ultimately I failed to love. Which sad to say, I always do and always will. Maybe all I need is the old you and not the who you. Unless my words could only be condensing with the air I breath out, all this hopes will never come true. Speak my word, and it happen.

Like everyone said, no matter what a failure still have the mark as a failure eventhough after being a winner. Likewise, I've been, or once been, a 'Love Failure', who never gets an A1 but a terrible F9.