Meeting Woohyun was a fate. He as a human reminds me of several matters. If he was a bird, he might be a raggiana. The bird of paradise that only feed on fruits or drink on morning dews and smells heavenly. Its beauty celebrated with envy and eternalised in countless poesy. If he was a plant, he might be a pine tree that is tall and sturdy. Deep rooted in the ground with its canopy kissing the sun light during the day and reaching for the rouge stars in the skies of night. If he was a book, he might be a paperback of fictions. Where realities and fantasies are knitted together transcending the plain and white paper just to reach the heart of readers.

           Woohyun as a person however is a living paradox. Thus I conclude if he was a raggiana, he will make his first and final stop on the earth just to die as an exaggerated myth. If he was a pine tree, his long years of existing might be dull and very lonely. If he was a book, he might be full of lies although the ending ought to be read as happy. Woohyun leaving me was a fate too. Upon his departure I realised, there was one more substance that he could also be. If he was a colour --if he was a colour I thought, he might be that dye of darkest black. The one that will coat all the vibrant with bereavement looms and make other shades perish. He made me perished.

departure; /diˈpärCHər/

noun

 the act of leaving,

a starting out, as on a trip or a new course of action,

 a divergence or deviation, as from an established rule, plan, or procedure,

(nautical) the distance sailed due east or west by a ship on its course,

a euphemistic word for death,

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alternative meaning;

by conclusions deduced in the manner of her letting go,

lest perchance of one more meeting and another hello.