- My dear, are you coming back?
-Maybe one day, maybe never…
The mere fact that I'm leaving destroys another soul. You and I had a night to write a story. Let's sketch the end because on the departure platform, the train was waiting to leave. As time goes on… A station full of two empty souls. A bustle of people lost on the platform of life. Wrong directions. The right people at the wrong time. Wrong people at the wrong time.
I smoke a cigarette and stare blankly. Neither you nor I are what we used to be. It says big on the package: "Smoking kills!". When? And people kill. Both literally and figuratively. Sometimes with a smile on my face… I cared about my dear, but not enough. I loved. But alone and clearly not you.
I never hid that from you. I told you from the beginning that only memories will remain and that my stories do not have a happy ending. I hope it is pointed out that when I dream I am happy. Sometimes even with open eyes. The sun is shining. I drink a mouthful of coffee and I look at you. I realize you'd like to kiss my bare shoulder, only now there's a wall between us. You want to walk towards me, but you know it doesn't do you any good.
One thing is for sure: I made art from the start. The moment they disappear must remain a memory. A memory that hurts, but that you remember beautifully after a few years. This comedy called life always ends with too many tears.
