I was lonely. I hide with my pillows under the blanket. I shuffled my playlist to keep me company.

I guess there’s a certain magic behind the shuffle button. Sometimes, it’ll play the song you’re about to sing, or the song you’re just thought a while ago. Mine is worse this time, it played that exact song that brought me to you three years ago.

It was a post-rock song. Some guitars and drums in unexpected tempos but magically brings harmony. You introduced me into this song, under the bridge in the heart of town, while shooting some clips for a movie. The sky is dark, the streets are full of people taking photographs at closed stores. I stood still with wide-eyes, enjoying the romantic view of busy streets.

In that moment, perhaps, I still can’t differ my affection towards you, and a box of hatred about you. But in that exact melody, I saw the dim of lights crawling around you. I pictured you wearing cowboy hat, standing still above the abandoned woods, humoring the fireflies. As I watched you from far away, with a floral crown, and a dirty white dress. You were just as magical as the shuffle button at that time.

We can never guess when will the songs will end with post-rock. At that time the song is fading after around 7–8 minutes, and my imagination that burst with thousand stars inside my head suddenly crumble when I heard you said,

We should be doing this again some more.

The song stopped. I still don’t know whether I fond of you, or tired of you. Even though the lights are fuckin pretty, the streets crowd are bloody fantastic. We won’t be sure if we’re doing this again, will we?

But, yes, I’m sure this song will always brought me back to you. And your green jacket. And your ignorant smiles. The song that titled,

Good bye.

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