If it's just a crush, then it's just a crush. When the event is over, it's over. When you shake their hands, bid a farewell or goodbye, au revoir, you know right away, suddenly, that they're gone. Disappear from your life, back into their life, their normal life. And you into yours. Your own hassles and baffles. Hectic days. That your object of admiration, or crush, or whatever you call it, had gone from your sight, and most likely, from your life too, for good. The curtain's dropped. The stage's equipment are packed. The actors change their customs into their daily normal outfits. The story, sadly, must be ended, here and now. The narrator of the play said so, and so it was.
Yes, people come and people go. There's no chance that some people will stay because they don't meant to stay. For you, for anything. Their home is not here. It's in some alien continent faraway. They just paid a visit, business visit, official visit, other than personal visit. They were gone. And you turned your sad face away from others' sight because you know that it had come to an end. The end of your little admiration secret story that you've had for only a couple of days. The story that was so insignificant but making you feel like you are just part of the human race, -and not phantom nor robot, who have feelings and pains, and can hurt and feel the sorrow too.
