As I step into this space that I’ve known for so long, there’s something that feels familiar yet so distant. It’s like the air that I breathe, the corner that I peek, or the tranquility that I seek all have a sense of déjà vu.
But, at the same time, there’s a feeling of emptiness that surrounds me. It’s as if your presence is still lingering here, enveloping me in the most profound anguish that I’m currently experiencing.
Every corner of this place reminds me of the memories we once shared, the laughter that echoed through the halls, the gaze that was so rare, and the kind of love that had to end.
It’s like every inch of this space is etched with our story, and I can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia every time I’m here.
Despite everything that has happened, there’s a sense of comfort in seeing snippets of your life that I unintentionally come across.
It’s like every little detail of your existence is so you, in a way that’s familiar and comforting. But, at the same time, it’s all so out of reach, so far from me. It’s like a reminder of what once was and what can never be again.
