and maybe it’s still some kind of forever. that kind i can tell you may possibly see on the way heart is throbbing, adding and skipping a beat. in ways i’ve felt existing and living with a heartbeat, but also dying with the hurt but you are loving the way it does it: spinning, without anyone touching, and falling and falling into places. in times i already had enough touches of fleeting moments and temporary highs and i have known to myself things can just go end just like the usual: someday, i’ll only have to look back. i am already familiar with those places that i’ll be in after, but i do keep the faith anyway. that kind i can tell will exist even hearts already stopped loving the things for i have known you once in them. in simple, quiet ways of how you left so much things to mourn over, and to smile with that even with the rage or finite heartbeats or memories to lose for, i have known—i’ll always be missing every second. and it will just hurt by the thought that hearts can stop coming back even to things it once loved but it will also feel good, so good for i know i would not. i can tell by the way i’ve been lost to edges and found myself with the thought of something once happened. by the way i remember that even if it’s just a passing time, you were once in there.
i do know time will come when i can say moments wouldn’t even matter once we decided to forget. but i have seen you in ways that are lovely, so lovely with all the stories you’ve got in your palms and so lovely together with the things i have yet to find out. you made me find the beauty hiding even with the existence of not yet’s, of all the aches it hides and the promises it holds. it is beautiful, and much beautiful even with no longer’s—those things meant not to happen even once, those words that didn’t get a chance to be alive, and somehow, it’s consoling to think that they will remain as they are: forever unchanged. and i know things bound to go their ways and things aren’t always here to stay but i had the certain moments and i’ll always choose to rewind them as if they are just burning for the first time. to know the now will no longer happen after times, that it will not happen twice, and to still have faith on it. not the faith for making things last but to have a faith that even with unexpected, shortest moments—at some times on it, everything feels so real, and it’s alive and existing. and you need not to be spoken in poems or in every sighs for you will always be the moment. the same exact way it was, and it will linger and will always feel right. some things can’t just really stay so often and always. but we knew once, you will still be in there: on some times and when hearts are never quiet. by then, i’ll know it a little more certain—
it’s still some kind of forever.
— 00:52 l. sin, to meet sometimes & never
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»» photo (without the words in it) screencapped from the film: As Tears Go By (1988)
