Only One

Sometimes love leaves quietly, without slamming the door, like a sound that gradually fades away in a song. It all seems simple: there were two people, there was ‘everything,’ and suddenly - emptiness. And it doesn't even hurt, it just feels hot, as if the heart is still trying to catch up with what is long gone.

Here, feelings are not about melodrama, but about internal overheating. When the mind says ‘enough,’ but the body still remembers. And in this contradiction, a strange beauty is born: sadness sounds rhythmic, regret almost dances, and the word ‘heat’ turns not into temperature, but into the aftertaste of something too real to simply let go.