It’s always like that, our story seems has no past and future. Like a log of firewood, the story lingers there to disappear. That’s you, the one who stays there to become dust. So here I am, helplessly just watch you go—after gave me heat for a while. 
I don’t know how you explain me in your life, yet. After all these years, we still hesitate—I know. Me now might not even match your league then, since life keep me drowning while you keep on shining. “Ah, come on.. who don’t want to have a prospectus doctor as her future?”, they said. I’m nodding but resist to think like that. For me, what linger in heart is beyond important. This stupid idealist woman, who can understand her?
Actually my heart screaming. Every time you get closer to me, one small step make my heart beat strange. I know, I can feel it—the different it makes. But still I can't admit it. Because back then you always disappear after I let them goes wild. It just always been hard for me—at least for thinking, “Ah, a honest person is there". 
I guess we just don't rely on each other that much. We just don't recall each other that much—so we always alright even we are far apart. Hence, once you come back, I’m always be the one who start to dissolve. Hence in the paint which has nothing left to draw, what can be done then? Can you even answer me?
-end-