not my photo…
Translated…
Missing someone is for just one person, it’s, private,
It’s a person, being too stubborn, a person’s own catharsis
The real love is unafraid of the rains, the storms, and is fine, living an ordinary life, with time, as its, witness
Life, is a long trip alone, there’s, no need, to burst anybody’s bubbles
And, this would be, the COLD, HARD truths about love, you’ll end up alone, because no matter how many loved ones we have, they will all, eventually, leave us, because, they will all get taken by DEATH, one, by one, and as each and every person we loved very much passes away, we’d all feel that small part of our hearts, disappearing, because we loved the ones we loved so very much, and their deaths had, impacted us so.
not my photograph here still…
Life, the Obstacle Course 