もう少しだけ

Love is like an old movie that you watch over and over again, knowing every line, every twist, but still hold your breath for the ending. There's that aftertaste of conversations that are going nowhere but still warm you in this sound. Words trail off mid-sentence, as if there's no need to explain everything, it's already clear, you just want to stay in the familiar frame a little longer. The music is like a projector playing memories: faces, trips, laughter, slightly shy glances. Everything simple seems rare, and that's what makes it hurt. Even when feelings fade, a quiet "thank you" remains for what once was. And perhaps that's what happiness is: the ability to talk about what can't be returned to without crying, but with a smile.