Space was never on our side, and now time isn't, either. How can the ones we adore be transformed into strangers with familiar faces? Is it a gradual process, or does it happen overnight? And can it be reversed?

Love ends, and the emptiness it leaves behind feels like the loss of a body part. Soon enough, you learn to live without it; you might even experience a certain sense of relief, especially if it was a sore and painful part, at the time. Yet the absence remains.

So you devote your time in futile exchanges and excruciatingly temporary attachments. You employ whatever means possible to cover the gap- things, places, people-, but nothing ever fills it up, and will you ever let go let go let go let go let go again?