To know that this day goes on and on infinitely because it ends then begins again, and my cells regenerate like pairs of old lovers torn apart to give life to other new cells; we too shall set off in different ways.
One. We didn’t know each other. We never met.
Two. I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I almost did. Almost.
Four. The point was not about me hiding underneath blankets and refusing to eat. I’m talking about walking on the road in the middle of the morning, and not giving a care whether a car hits me.
Eight. It becomes a faded mark. I don’t notice it most of the time, but when I do my heart twinges and then that eventually fades as well.
Sixteen. We have both gone so far we don’t even see the starting line. It becomes a dot to us.
But always remember we met first — we were the pair of cells which started it.