Till Become Dust

This is our final meeting, a moment that may never repeat in the tapestry of our dreams. Your orbit, once a shining star in the constellation of my dreams, now seems destined to fade away forever, never to be seen again. My hope is but a fantasy of destiny, that in two or three decades, we may once again encounter each other somewhere within the vast expanse of fate.

Like a beam of light now beyond my reach, I can no longer discern whether you are a particle of memory or a wave of hope that has become an illusion in the depths of my longing. As the year draws to a close, as I pen these words, I imagine hosting your spirit, as if this potion of yearning remains ever vivid in my thoughts, never fading with time.

With whom are you now sharing your days? I hope you are too well…

This overwhelming and intoxicating feeling always arises at precisely two in the morning, as if the cold wind brushing against my skin is a message from the cosmos that I still yearn for your presence beside me.

Even though I only see you on the screen, I'm still grateful. May this separation not last forever, and in some distant future, may we again find ourselves beneath the same sky.