Day 71: People always, leave.
Sometimes, you wonder why people come into your life, if they have to walk out of it after all. They make you feel, they make you fall, they give you memories just so that every bit of it could be crumpled and thrown away in rusted dustbins laying unattended outside the apartments built over the decades, where the cracked walls and peeled off paint are louder than the horns of the vehicles under broken street lights.
If only goodbyes meant for today and the faking smiles were real, she wouldn't have walked away with closed eyes and her lips sealed. Soon it will be cold enough to build fires in the house made of red bricks, where she decided to plant her little dreams in a glass mug filled with mud and pebbles, topped with a pocket full of sunshine.
Three hours and thirteen minutes isn't enough to know someone, but getting to know someone is too overrated when all they want to do is hear about all the people who belonged in the past ignorant about the chance they have been given today to make it to someone's tomorrow.
Sometimes Everytime, you have to accept it, pick yourself up and move the fuck ahead. You get connected, you give then a chances, you give them love, you give them your everything.
No matter what you do, people always leave.
The three paragraphs above,
have no connection whatsoever
yet are strongly connected by strings
attached to every memory
who came like a cold gust of wind
everything while they left.