Meet Me at the Water Festival

Yonezawa, Japan. Picture by Me.

Meet me at the Water Festival.

Because we will walk alongside the river and watch the fireworks. Because we will talk about our favorite memories and pretend like all our better days are still ahead.

Meet me at the Water Festival, because it will be the last time I see you. I’m tall, so even in the sea of people that show up, you’ll be able to find me. I’ll try not to get too drunk so I can keep on the lookout for you as well.

And after, we’ll meet again? Part of me can never believe it, and I don’t like the idea of meeting again just to say goodbye again.

When this whole thing is over, it will be just a memory, something that can only be taken away by time itself.

And even when time succeeds and we ultimately forget, it doesn’t change the fact that it happened. Even when the universe ends, it will never change the fact that we met at the Water Festival.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Another story about goodbyes:

Follow on Twitter

Eric Isaac on Amazon


One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.