It will be the second ramadhan which I through without my dream. I know ramadhan is his favorite month. I so remember exactly how he says it to me. I so remember how I pass my fasting day with my dream. How he was with me when I start my fasting at dawn. Wake me up and so do I to him. I just starting to cry ... to remain his voices, words and how beautiful his eyes. The eyes which I miss so much. Happy ramadhan my dream.

No, I cant. He still haunting me. Whenever wake up at midnight, his face, voices and words still flashing my mind. I just cry to know how I risk my life to still be with him, cry to know how this heart still same as it is, cry to know how break this heart. Sometimes I just want to call him and say "my dream ... hate you. Hating the way you do at me. Hating you as much as I love you" then just cry on phone. But I never do that, I just afraid ... afraid .... afraid because I love my dream and kills me more.