I've learned to fold my feelings into something softer, something that doesn't ask for anything in return. And even though I'm no longer part of your story, a small, unspoken part of me will always be rooting for you, loving you in the quietest way possible.
My heart lingers in a quiet space between what is and what could have been. There's a soft ache in realizing that timing, of all things, decided the distance between us—not a lack of feeling, not a lack of trying, just moments that didn't align.
So I hold it quietly now. This love that still exists, even if it no longer has a place to stay, except in wishes for your happiness… even if that happiness no longer includes me.
Met bubaran Yaa.
At this moment I have a lot of abundant piles of love and affection to share with. It may apparently because several reasons; I have thousands romantic poems that I pen.
“Well, the thing is… you’re here because you’ve crossed the rainbow. And this café… this place is the final resting place before you go to the afterlife.”