Do you know why it's hard to say goodbye? Because we afraid if our memories might not be able to remember them, rightly. The fact is, goodbye means good. No matter how hard.
~Aurora Esterlia

Am I?

Her dancing, I still remember.
The waltz or her sweats.
Then, the piano tunes keep it on jazz.
So much nerves when I saw her in front of me.
Myself couldn't be so attractive like her at that time.
No matter words in my head try to describe.
No her, now, in my future.
Like a memory.
A slight of greatest night.
I missed her.
Time has changed so bad.
Between me and the memory, I even lost when that time ever happen.
The dream in my head and skin ship I felt as our last touch on the dance floor.
Nothing makes me in real.
On this bar, I now, just remember her.
Singing the blues.
Old karaoke, I bet.
No more spot lights, just old bartender.
Old woman I never thoughts she will drink here.
The place suppose to be full of youthness.
Or, am I already old, now?
It was suppose to be a cold evening and there's the warm gestures in our moves.
The smells from her perfume, I kept it as the favorite scent.
Incomplete ending, she just disappeared.
For one reason, I used to come here for her.
And might be the same from her, to me.
And, I just need to leave the town.
I was so lost, I know this habit was wrong.
To keep unfaithful, one night stand at a time.
Then, I left her, for her beauty on the night club, I never own it.
I never meant to own it.
And old lady just busy looking the things inside her purse.
My voice still not very happy tunes.
It's been a long time, and she looked at me.
The song was about bring her back, or kind of near with it.
My journey to around the world didn't give best result, to find a right woman.
I'm back here.
Music suppose to be loud, but the song just end.
No more sounds on the bar, just this lazy radio behind the bar.
I missed her.
If this my only chance to find my soul mate in this town, it must be her.
How this old woman suddenly comes to me?
I smell alcohols and drunk, face might red but I can do walk to her.
She came with something in her hand.
She's not that girl, right?
The song meant to the older woman from past but not too older.
"Are you the young man on this picture?"
I found the date of that picture, such an old polaroid.
"Yes. I'm dancing here 11 years ago, and, this was me and.."
I look at the old woman.

She smile.
Same eyes.
"She was my daughter. She knew you would come back, here."
Such mysterious words from her.
That meant if she's dead or gone.
"She collected your photos from far, she said she's your big fan."
"Where is she, now?"
She opens her purse, there's the perfume bottle.
"Here's her perfume. She wanted you to have it. She said your first talk with her was you love it."
"Yes."
"She said if there's true love, it must be from him. You will be a great man."
Am I?

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