It's always in the parting of ways. Suddenly, the phone line gets cut off and the nights of deep conversations end. All this for the unnerving aim to be separate - to be no longer involved.
It's like saying goodbye at the crossroads where one takes off North and the other East. There is no more chance of meeting. The embrace that was once home to you becomes alien and the laugh you once loved becomes inexplicably cold and hauntingly sad.
There are so many crossroads in this world and thus, there are many farewells to be bid. So when do the crossroads end and when do roads meet and go on an endless journey as one? I always imagine a road travelling in no specific direction - a road in which trajectory does not matter. All that matters is that this road travels all the way up to the end. And when it hits that end, it fades into the sea and is lost in its blue.
"I don't think this is too difficult a dream," I say, but yet, I'm sat alone in this park.
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