I see him walking towards me.
He's alone, in his usual red checkered shirt and old dark jeans, with his over-worn Nike shoes that he has had since he was 19, bringing Psychology textbooks in his hands as an addition to the ones he brings in his brown sling bag that he likes so much.
His eyes are focused on mine, displaying emotions that we both know so well.
His pace doesn't change, neither does mine. We are getting closer, every second, every step, we are getting closer… And closer…
And then he smiles at me.
And I smile at him.
And we continue walking, with the familiar pain in our chests, trying to hold it all because we know what we had will only be a memory.
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