I suddenly feel left out of a future that isn't even going to happen.
I heard this expression once: Each time someone dies, a library burns. I'm watching it burn right to the ground.
I didn't know love felt like this, like turning into brightness.
People die, I think, but your relationship with them doesn't. It continues and is ever-changing.
Our tongues have fallen madly in love and gotten married and moved to Paris.
Maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story.