Now, with only memories left, they realize how short those moments of love were. Yet, here they are, feeling the echoes of a bond that refuses to fade, even as they try to let go. Love was brief, but forgetting โ thatโs the journey that lasts.
As Neruda wrote: โ๐๐จ๐ฏ๐ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐จ ๐ฌ๐ก๐จ๐ซ๐ญ, ๐๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐๐ญ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐จ ๐ฅ๐จ๐ง๐ .โ