Letting go

" Halfway through my everyday life, I always find myself pondering over the million reasons why I feel the lingering moments of dull emptiness whenever I converse with someone or why I keep giving blank stares to the peaceful twilight." I thought to myself sitting on a slightly wet bench, a scent of petrichor lingered while the gray clouds cleared to reveal a sublime spectacle before me, a constellation of dying stars but twinkling dreams.

I gazed upon the rainbow skies and distant galaxies, savoring the feeling of daydreams of skyrocketing to the moon.

"What is it like to be a fragment of someone's past?" A small voice in my head, asked. I answered.

I answered, unsure of myself. Questioning wether I was right or wrong.

"It's like reaching a distant height in the atmosphere where everything is draped in black and the stars cease to shine, trying to believe in the illusion of possibility but all you have is memories." I frowned, sighing. Remembering the times I chased a black hole while leaving the beauty of your asterisms.

"The stars may seem to die but it will always leave remnants of it, beautifully tragic but nonetheless one of the greatest things to see. Mesmerizing, unforgettable just like the fragments that you left." It pains me to even think of letting go of the thread that once connected us, I stood up, shivering from the cold breeze that's hitting my skin, I started walking home and on the bench that I sat on was our picture, a distant memory. Passed but never forgotten.