Imagine a scenario where we will never observe each other again. Consider the possibility that we neglect to meet at the bistro on the edge of the road.
On the off chance that we overlook the future, we can even now make it up ourselves. We can get imaginative and fabricate it with our hands, much the same as that dirt statue you were anxious to make together. Yet, imagine a scenario in which we overlook the past. Imagine a scenario where our recollections move toward becoming fiery remains and whenever we see each other we don't feel anything by any means.
I would prefer not to feel nothing for you. I can't envision you as an outsider. I can't envision strolling by you impassively. I would prefer not to feel that we will in the long run disregard each other, on the grounds that there is nothing most exceedingly bad than numbness. Consider the possibility that those valuable photographs are singed in the fire, out of a burst of lack of concern. What will survive of us is simply powder and despairing. I don't need our affection to wind up lack of care. It can't be. We had an enchanted sort of affection. We were us. We were so exceptional, so alive together. In the event that I lose that, I kick the bucket. I would bite the dust each day from the specific first minute I will begin to overlook. I comprehend what you are considering and truly, I have other five hundred and seventy seven feelings of dread, yet obscurity is my most profound one. In no way like overlooking us assaults my lungs so unforgivingly.
I would prefer not to overlook our 24-hours escape in heaven. I would prefer not to overlook the photos taken with the old expendable camera. I would prefer not to overlook the endless occasions I used to return to your room, and the innumerable and-one times you let me in. We had motivation to be so flawless at such a badly arranged time. What's more, I would prefer not to release it. I am not prepared to simply neglect the power of our short, clear moments.
I am reluctant to overlook your voice and that you will overlook mine.
I am reluctant to overlook the intensity I recognized clearly every time we met.
I am reluctant to overlook our affection. I am hesitant to overlook the pace of our adoration, your hands that gradually would touch my hair and the brisk looks that we used to trade simply following a couple of hours after not seeing each other.
I am hesitant to overlook the soothing sentiment of awakening with my body wrapped into yours.
I am reluctant to overlook how hint we can get.
I fear how mournful our farewell has been.
I am reluctant to overlook all our first occasions.
I am hesitant to overlook every one of the plans that we have, and abandon them immaculate.
I am hesitant to lose myself as I lose recollections. I would prefer not to overlook how you transformed me. I would prefer not to overlook how the force of our affection influenced me to feel invigorated once more. I need to recall. I need to have the capacity to review those moments that influenced me to begin to look all starry eyed at notwithstanding when we were no more. Notwithstanding when the torment is insufferable, I need to feel you once again.
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