A Couple Minutes

Sometimes a meeting after a break-up is like a short film without a sequel: familiar voices, slightly awkward smiles, questions to which both know the answers. Just a few minutes - and back to ‘reality’. But it is in these moments that everything that was once important lives on: the smell of cigarettes, the old sofa, the laughter that the walls remember.

Love here does not ask to come back - it just sits quietly nearby, without any pretensions. It doesn't demand explanations or seek to assign blame. Because if something was once real, it doesn't disappear - it just becomes softer, quieter, like the light at sunset. And there is something surprisingly kind about this: even when it's over, love still knows how to be a light.