Once, I really enjoyed our little conversation over coffee about life. We talked for three hours without realising it. And each time when we have to part ways, a certain sadness always fills my being: what is good must inevitably end somewhere, and I wonder when we'll get to talk like that again, and if we'll feel the same happiness the next time. But between now and then, we always seem to be pulled apart by circumstances and our foolish egos. If only we could give each other a chance, save each other from ourselves. But I suppose we're still young about such things, so the best thing to do I guess is to wish you the best, my Friend, and let you go.
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