I miss you

Sometimes words slip away from our fingers, out of our control. It is the pass running through our veins, invading what we thought was totally forgotten, but it never is. I know I am no longer a memory of yours, but a disposed fragment of the past. I know I should enjoy the mere thought of becoming a ghost of a neverland. However, I can't resist to tell you, when you are not hearing, nor listening, that I miss you. And somehow, I know I always will as a part of you will always be inside me, recalling the words of the poet.

  Odi et amo. 
 Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris... 
 nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.