Recalling the butterflies

Love is so many splendor things. It's a magic. It's indescribable. It's almost unreal. That is what the romantic love songs promote, the artists of all ages trying to say through their masterpieces.

But having been away from it for a way too long, makes you forget what it is all about. Looking at the old pictures of people you fell for before, and thought, the pictures were getting paler, getting vanished, getting more irrelevant. You make several hard attempts to recollect the sensation, the throbbing chest, the vibes, the morphine-like feeling of falling in love with real people. And you almost failed recalling it. It's just that. No exaggerating. Where have they been gone, the magical colorful butterflies? Have they flown too far away to a far faraway lands of unknown? When will your migrating season be? Flocking back here, would you or would you not?