It wasn’t too late to love her at all.
To love her first.
Is to live in her heart.
To breathe the same air,
To dream the same dream.
Even if she had to leave.
Even if she left with no reason.
I knew she needed to go to live, to love.
It was our first learning to love.
But what she gave me,
Was a dream that someday I know I’ll catch up with.
A memory that is short but,
A treasure I wouldn’t offer for anything to exchange.
Even if what we had was little.
But these little things,
They taught me to live with and without her,
To breathe when it becomes tough,
To love even when being hurt.
The way she loved me in her silence.
I felt it through the image,
That she capture and imprinted in her heart.
Now looking at them,
Gosh... I felt it.
The vibe of love that I missed so much.
Tracing back every moment of her life since the day she left.
I missed her, her little lies.
But now I know that she misses me just as much.
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