Unattainable.
The word approximately equals flawlessness or perfection. It is, truly, an uncanny phenomenon.
I don’t know where we will end up. Two continents, the Pacific Ocean, 13 hours tine zone. Maybe someday we just stopped playing Harry Potter chain game, maybe we stopped reminding each other
the closest festival, or maybe we merely get defeated by the distance.
Uncertainty.
I close my eyes. I see you standing therein the light, blocking the afternoon sun; only leave the halo around you. Brightness softens your figure. In my eyes, in my pupils, on my retinas.
I recall your eyelashes brushing my hair,your lips on my eyelid, and your nose tip against my forehead. Sensations burst out, like it was yesterday. Or it’s just your mails popping on the screenreminds me of you constantly.
Either way, I like the sense of you not being far away.
I’d really like to build a time machine.
And, yes, I know it’s too much of cliché.
And, yes, I know you will make fun of me for being so sentimental, plus a little satisfaction of being written. I can almost visualize it right now that you sitting in front of your desktop, smirking.