The days dragged on that seemed like forever.
Four days ago was the 100th day.
Two days ago must've been the 8th year.
Counting numbers that doesn't even give reasons to life. To death.
There've been so much questions. Yet afraid of answers.
I am the truth. Yet you hold your own truth.
Talking must've been good.
But if flowers are not fragrant enough to blossom, let's rather keep our silence.
The world is filled with suffering.
Neither you, nor I is spared.
I've kept myself immersed with the world.
I am empty. But unashamed.
From here springs forth infinite possibilities.
If, one day, God wills, we cross each other's paths,
spare US a moment.
That time was never wasted.
Never even thought it was.
I am sorry for hurting you.
I am sorry for hurting me.
I am sorry for hurting US.
It was a beautiful love.
Until WE died.