For the first time, we met, found each other.

We had different ways or not but we stood.

At this empty old station alone, we expressed ourselves.

Shared the most valuable moments, which are never going to happen again.

We both smiled, without caring about time, with all the winter breeze, we talked.

We attached, like a soul finding its true destination after leaving a corpse.

We knew that; we knew that it’s our first and last convo, we were crestfallen inside.

Enjoying every second, the attachment was never about love; it was about deep sentiments.

We exposed ourselves to this wintry night, talked, and laughed at old jokes, enjoying every part of it.

As if it’s going to steal by misery.

The siren echoed; it was a train; a train to our paths, a train whistled;

As if silence becomes heavier than words.

The truth we held was that we were going to part; it was a short, subtle period of time.

The train still stops at two every evening, the only change is the pair of footsteps never return.

The hug of words we each other waved, become louder than us.

All I felt was like waiting for a message from someone who is no longer there.

Our Goodbye disguised in words and smile, felt like the end of a journey.

The journey was never about love, it was about us; it was about our eerie meet up.

We didn’t say goodbye,

Goodbyes hide inside ordinary conversations.

The last hug never announces itself as the last.

Places will never forget,

Neither do we.

We will live in hope to meet again, to attach again; maybe; maybe it would our destiny.

A destiny to unite, destiny to goodbye.

We weren’t saying goodbye to each other, we were saying goodbye to the people we were when we stood together.

The conversation we left, the smile we left will reunite.

It was never about a goodbye.

It was never a goodbye.

It was landmark for our destination.

A destination which has no ends, which has no goodbye.