Acta est fabula

So, this is it. Friends, undone
by will, by heart, by life.

All is said. Nothing is understood.
All is tears, and yet we smile.
All is gone, but nothing ever left.

Love is like this, I guess:
the pursue, the wishing, the caring,
the emptiness inside us being filled.
Then, one day, the emptiness grows:
it`s over: I love you, but don`t.

Who am I to say anything?
Maybe, I`m the only one capable of saying something, maybe not.
Only time will tell...

Only time, the great friend, will tell.
By now, acta est fabula.
I love you, but don`t.
Bye, good friend. I wish you
nothing
but the best.