One step, another step, and then another. Before you could think of running back to me, you have walked too far. I watched you take your first step. My heart jumped as I watched you walk slowly and turn back, with a concerned face, worry written all over it. That moment, I knew you cared for me, I knew you wouldn't go very far. But somewhere between your solicitous gazes and my wayward thoughts about the uncertain future, the distance between us grew like a wild poisonous tree. And by the time you looked back at me, I was standing at the foot of the hill, you were at the peak. You had a different world to live After a while, you probably couldn't see me, waiting for you at the horizon - perhaps you were too busy. But my eyes never left your shadow. Sometimes, though, my mind wandered off to those times, when you were still close to me, close enough to hold my hand, close enough to let my head rest on your shoulder, close enough to look into my eyes and assure me that you'll never leave me. But I'm brought back to my world of pretension very soon, where I feign hope of seeing you in my arms again. When I look at you standing at the peak, with a happy face, I wonder if you've left behind your memories as well. I'm afraid you don't yearn anymore, for the life at the foothill. I cry at the bleak possibility of you coming back to me.
I crave to come there, maybe not to stay there forever, but to see you, feel you and listen to you speak. But then I look up again and realise how far apart we've grown.
