There are days we stumble upon beautiful things. The type we tediously and patiently chase whole day-long; the kind we wish to enclose gently and safely in our hands; the sort we promise to cherish forever and ever and ever and ever. But hopes and wishes are not truths—just thoughts and whispers to a void full of echoes, and in my case, songs.
Still, I am grateful to have caught a glimpse of that untouchable thing. Because again, I see what is beautiful. I know it though I can’t have it.