Is it really an end if it’s not tragic?

It’s the missing blanks in between of memories that keep you up at night,
not the happening of the instances.
You know how you listen to a song that stops halfway
and you keep wondering what comes next
is what makes you come back to the song.
If you knew how it ended why would you waste your time thinking about it.
This is why sometimes you can’t seem to stop reading a book midway
or can’t stop watching a series
because not knowing what happens will kill you.
Life’s kinda like that.
That’s why you get caught up in almosts and maybes because things never did end.
Not like how they should have anyway.
Almost abrupt. Almost at the wrong time. Maybe not at all.
That is why some loves do not find a solace.
That is why you can’t forget him.
Because he was there .
He was right within reach.
And then he disappeared
and you never saw him leave.

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