Every time I hear news about you, I pretend not to care and quietly turn it into a secret. Throughout the spring, summer, autumn and winter, I will never have you again.
The people who are most likely to feel warm and surprised are strangers, because you have no expectations for them; the people who are most likely to feel chilling and sad are relatives, because you love them.
Maybe I'm not capable enough to completely forget you, at least I know how to leave properly.
