Tak Kan Hilang

It seems the air is a bit thicker here than usual. It's like that - with a hint of longing, when your heart doesn't tear to shreds, but just aches quietly somewhere under your ribs. Everything around seems to breathe the past: the mug on the table, the curtain, a gentle breeze - and even time seems to slow down, as if it misses it too. There are no loud scenes in this sound, just the even breathing of tired feeling. The very one that doesn't die, even when everything is long over. When you let go, but continue to love - not because you have to, but because you can't help it. The music is like a gentle hand stroking your hair and whispering, "Yes, it hurts, but it's beautiful." And in this silence, between the inhale and the exhale, something alive remains - like an echo of yesterday's "together."