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All of us are just passerbys, and you and I chose to stay at the same stop. We held on each other's hands like letting go means jumping off a cliff without any gears on. With our hands intertwined, we witness every moments and tasted every bliss and blues, until everything we both believe in to weren't enough to shield the hurt anymore. You and I are just passerbys. I stayed there at the same stop, while I watched you getting off the seat beside me-walking away, finding another stop because you realized I was too broken for you. And I realized I let you walked away because you deserved better too. In this lifetime, we are just passerbys. We aren't meant to be together. I am not your last stop.
