Swirls of cloudy memories marinate in my mind as the music plays. They glow ever so faintly, as though the magic that weaved together their prestige has faded with time. I heard his message, loud and radiant, in the radio silence that was transmitted. Perhaps I should have said it was over, but perhaps the finest goodbyes come in the form of a lack of closure.

He exists somewhere on the other side of world, and that world is no longer ours. He made his decision as I made mine, and I like to think we both knew without having to reach across the Atlantic in gray and blue.

The reality was, we were two hearts out of eight billion in this big wide world, and maybe that was all we were. I fell in love with the concept of romance, an idea of what he could become. But between the hours that stroke midnight for me and then midnight for him, I realized our future would be paved with miles and miles of burnt dreams and echoes of what could have been.

Twenty-three.

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