Faded memories...

The morning dawned on a gloomy day with eyes wide open and tears flowing. With the raindrops that filled that clear window that once opened with brightness like a bird flying in the air.

On the day you were by my side on that day, it was me who didn't see the value, it was me who hurt those feelings. Even though today I understand everything, it means nothing when you are so far away from me. Far beyond what I could have imagined. And on a rainy day like this, how will someone like me move on without you???

It was the sentence I told her. But it was just speaking in my heart, so why didn't I tell her? Why? It's like a river that doesn't flow back to sleep. But rivers always meet somewhere and almost all rivers are connected to each other.

I hope you and I are like a river. No matter how far we flow, the paths will come together.

The photos that are still bright are in that picture frame. No matter how many times I look at it, why do tears always flow? Picture frame with your picture in it Collection of wooden cameras

The photographs and the wooden box I keep in a place where I can see them every time I go to sleep or when I wake up, every time I sit and look at them intently or just by looking through them. The image of the girl who once made me happy suddenly appeared in my head without my permission or perhaps. It never fades away

Every night I sit down and pray for just one minute to get you back when it's too late.

Even sometimes I think about it. What am I doing? Well, she's gone, she's left my side and gone to live in Faint hearts and memories that no matter how faded they are, will never be erased.

The girl who still stands smiling in front of me in a picture frame that was bright in the past Which is still the case today.

Someone once told me that dwelling in the past would prevent us from being happy in the present. If I were to believe that person's words, I will probably delete the image of the girl who once made me happy with all my heart. But today, when time helps heal bruised wounds, it makes me believe that

Some things in the past are more valuable than erasing them.”