I have always adored the motion of the waters in the middle of the disturbed land. The relaxing noise brings peculiar thoughts in the same way as the sight of horizon uncovers some hope. Pointing my eyes above the skies, I wandered in my own seas of thoughts – what if life ain’t this hard, what if the universe isn’t an expert gamer. And maybe, just maybe, we’d be like these calm waters, embracing our own abyss, lying under the blue roof of naturality, with little to no worries of every wave coming. Maybe if we live like the waves, we’d run together onto the very line of the shore, and then come back in the middle of the sea, still together. Unlike now, that we are living like weak plates. That even in little earthquakes, we shake apart, we move apart, away from each other’s warmth. Like weak plates that break away, away from our own breath, away from each other’s eyes which we call home. in the middle of this calm scenery is where the wind brought me when you drifted away. This is why I’m here talking to the particles of these running waters, asking them what it feels to run away, just like what youd did, when your hand ran away from mine. And as the water touched my bare skin, the wind whispered, “The person who is meant to be in your life, will always run back, no matter how far they wander.” I smiled, the same second as the wave ran back to where it belong. I know someday, you’ll come running back to me, because wherever you may go, you will always find your way back home.