It was his prominent face. The odd feeling you get in a dull morning that makes it less of ordinary and more surprising one. As clear as the morning light then, I recognized him. I was seemingly drowning into his presence. But I needed to fight back the gravity that pulls me towards him. I desperately needed to hold it back. My resolution was to show my facade face of not seeing him. Fooling who else but myself. With that split second, it was over. We passed by each other just like usual strangers would do. And in that clear and windy morning, hysteria raged in. I was torn between ecstasy and melancholy.
The 9th of February will always remind me of how finally, what we started came to an end. Of how none of us stopped the mark of our downfall. It became a silent agreement. One that I cannot fathom and will not. And cliche as it may seem, it all turns out to be part of our history-- memories that I can only visit once in a while but not to be stayed on any longer.
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