Distance is the death of love. These words come to me from a different train of thought. Love is undying, it changes colour, it changes shape but under the decorations, its still the same.
Distance is the death of love. But what can we do when the lifeline is far, when the other side of the coin starts fading, when the other lets go of the rope cutting into our hands
Distance is the death of love. Some day, far from the today, i will think about the love which was lost, a love which was incomplete and yet it was true. A love which died at the hands of time.
Distance is the death of loyalty. It is the death of memories, it is the death of habits, it is the death of closeness. It is something that eats away at a lover’s heart, as he or she writhes in different corners of the world, longing to see a face that they lost.
Distance is the death of hope. A hope to find each other in the crowd, on a sunny, summer afternoon maybe. Run into each other by chance, say hello with a shy glance. Or maybe share some memories they made without you. But hope is dead, and so are you.