strangers get born, strangers get buried. ‎ ‎but strangers sometimes do knew each other—blurred out faces, black marked on details, burnt off memories and tear stained names. he stayed—tried to forget, let go, change. and look where it got him. ‎ ‎it took him five whole minutes to pack it all up and leave his side of the bed. hold all his love out there in the hall. no word, no sound, no goodbyes—it's for the best. for your own good. for you, he reminded himself, repeatedly. engrave it in his skin, in his thick skull so he won't selfishly stay like all of it did not came from a white lie. a three million bounty turned into three words he would never know he deserve. ‎ ‎he loves you. he have to kill you but it will kill him just the same, and worse. so, he'll walk away. run. hide. forget. and endure. different story, same ending. and he... his tears falls unknowingly, seeping through the sweater we knitted together. ‎ ‎he steps forward— click — he stops.