Our life together was like an elevator ride. At first, we rode the same elevator everyday and we went off the same floor. Time had passed, we still rode the same elevator but went off on different floors. Time had passed again and I discovered that there was already an elevator serving certain floor levels. For our convenience, we took separate elevators; we can still meet at the lobby, you said.
One day, i decided to take the same elevator you were in and went off on your level, i had to take the stairs back to my floor though; a little walk doesn’t really matter, at least i get to see you everyday, i said.
Time had passed again and I realized that the elevator you were taking was becoming more and more crowded that i can barely fit in, still, I held into you. I was clinging into you until you felt suffocated by my presence; take the other elevator, we stay on the same building anyway, you said.
From that day on, we never rode the same elevator, mine was always next to yours. My absence gave you more than enough room to breathe.
Eventually, we stopped seeing each other at the lobby and ultimately, we stopped seeing each other at the building. We were so close, yet so far. And the realization came to me, our paths will never cross again.