Never Ever

I remembered the first email I received from you three months ago.

You told me you had arrived safely and you wrote about your encounter with an "unfriendly" German on the train to Stuttgart.

It's a sunny Wednesday afternoon and I was sick at home. Your email was so funny it made me laugh hysterically. Maybe I should be run over by a truck later that day, so your email would be the last thing I remembered.

Today I feel liberated after sending my last email to you. All the confusion, distress and sadness were gone after I clicked on "send" button. The memories of you will be folded and put away in a suitcase under my bed. I will pull it out to revisit every so often. But like flower buds painted on glasses, these memories will never change, never grow, and most unfortunately never ever come to a blossom.