"Why do you love me?", she asked. He looked at her and smiled then gazed into the sky trying to find answers. "I understand", she broke the silence. "I can't answer too... The selcouth feeling I get when am with you, can't be explained in words only felt".
And some of your stories will end in a way that you won't get to pour your drunken heart out to strangers narrating why it ended without beginning. The subjects will walk away leaving behind shards of their fragrance with you trying to clutch onto them with all your might. You won't get to flip the pages of their journals and wonder why was your name lost among a sea of others. You won't have a sad letter on your bedstand to read under the lamplight with a cup of hot coffee. And most of all, You won't get to weep over the indifference of your characters. They will end and that's about it. You see, not all goodbyes are dead ends. But, they're ends anyway. Sometimes, of stories and sometimes, of a part of you.