you asked me to stay, but I couldn’t. not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew that it will eventually end.
and it felt like when you just finished a book you really liked and your brain tries to convince you that it’s not over, that there are missing parts hiding somewhere in between the blank pages –and you have to find them. so you start telling yourself “it’s not over, it can’t be”.
but after a moment, reality hits you –like a bullet crossing your heart. and you stay there, paralysed, daydreaming of what you just read, wanting so badly to go back to page one.
that’s how moving on felt like, like finishing a good book, like a bullet crossing my heart.