I stand near the window, gazing at the old grown tree. I don't exactly know, which tree it is and the fact is pretty embarrassing. But, something inside of me blooms like a fresh meadow, raising a hope of growing again, as I see these leaves startling to dance on every branch of this tree.
Standing there, I slowly open my hand and look closely inside the gem of our memories. We still seem young and wild and free, fleeting on happiness as if it was only yesterday that we were fallen in love. Yes, fallen.
It had been several times now. The way, You've tried to bid me a goodbye. It hadn't worked well, you see. Especially from my side. But something has always stopped us to just leave like the sand slips away. For me, it was always a question you raised, "why me?"
Love; still stuns me. Do you remember me saying, it was a flame which brings warmth and turns us into ashes too? I've been a flower, blooming in fresh colors of love. But nevertheless, I have been a thorn, piercing through, till the ache makes a home in me. Because, you were the one, who brought aura in a flower, and the departures, these thorns, I kept piercing to myself.
After all this time, all we do is, forget about the world and dive in the light of moon, hunting the darkness, bringing ourselves back to light. Sometimes, our souls shook wondering, where are we and what are we doing right in the moment? The lines on our palms giggle when we hold hands and say, "Here they are... Again".