I read a really sad poetry and it was so beautiful i could feel the pain in my chest.
I think about how would you react to a poetry like that. I think about how'd you think about it. Would you always remember me like i did? Would you remember me when you breathe in the smell of the morning coffee? Would you remember me when you touch the first literature on your dusty shelf? Would you or wouldn't you?
Why is it the pain of longing a person so far away is just the same as seeing them the very first time? I wouldn't wanna know.