i think it's crazy that i'm in love with someone whose face i can't remember his face, nor his voice or the outline of his beauty. i'm in love with the colours i had of him, the world he painted for me yet with no proof that it happened except for words i write. it's funny because i'm holding these gifts of memories he gave me that keeps slipping through my fingers. i'm in love with someone i don't know anything beyond the world i shared with him six years ago.

my love for you was the beginning of our path. thank you for walking with me back then.

but i think it's given me more sorrow now as i walk this lonely road.