The breeze is waiting for you
Outside the window, the light and shadow of the city flowed in silence.
I sat by the window, watching his figure, like an old painting meticulously copied by time, yet no trace of its former warmth could be reclaimed. We were separated by a sea of people; our gazes met briefly before swiftly cooling into an ocean of wordless calm.
His world seemed to run with perfect orderliness. A phone call, a simple "I'll handle it," had transformed the past's raging storms into a backdrop of serene indifference. And I, at this very moment, was completely drowned by the torrent of memories.
Some meetings are a tribulation; some reunions, a debt.
We once thought that a simple turn would bring new life, never realizing that hasty departing figure had already sealed the greatest distance of our lifetimes.
It turns out the farthest distance in the world is not being poles apart, but standing before you while you see me as a stranger; it is having heard your voice and known your scent, only to watch helplessly as you become a part of my life that I dare not touch again... a permanent goodbye.