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I saw you, in that brief moment I saw you. Walking blissfully, until you disappeared like a whisper on a cold night.
I look for you in every corner, every place, it was like I expected your shadow wherever I went. Like I wanted to see you just once more.
The eyes felt like they wanted to close but the hope to see you kept them open. There was longing, and that was intoxicating. The kind that made life livable again, the kind that made a knife feel less lodged in my chest.
But hope is what keeps a person going, and slowly you run out of hope. The hope to love, the hope to try, the hope to live to see them once more.
The glimmer in the eye spoke more than the sullen muscles. They sparkled with sorrow. The kind that appeared to be soaked in optimism but sullen with regret.
But hope keeps me going until I do see you.
That is when hope will die, for one does not realize the thing they long for is often what perishes their soul.