Strangely, I know better about the end. In the beginning I thought about forever, that it would never end, that we would never end.

But it was a lie.

It has come. The end has come.

When I look at you, baby, look at me.

I’m seeing you for the last time.

I told you this might be the last time. The last time to say goodbye, the last time to say goodnight…

You didn’t look at me anymore. You looked at another. I knew the end was coming. I knew about the end.

I wanted to be your end.

When I looked at you, you smiled before looking away. You wouldn’t meet my eyes. I knew it was the end. My body was shaking as I moved forward, advancing slowly. You looked at me, faith in your eyes, but no love.

I knew the end was near.

Slow down, baby. I wished you’d slow down. The time was running out and I wanted to enjoy you for a moment longer. Baby, calm down.

My voice was shaking when I brokenly whispered, “This might be the last time.”

“It might be,” you had said, but you didn’t even know. You’d never know.

It was a sunny day, but on the window it suddenly rained. Splashes of red on the window, rain, rain.

It’s strange how I knew about the end.

Love is hurtful. Painful. Anguish.

Love is sorrow. Despair.

Love is hate.

I wanted to be yours until forever, but I saw the pain in your eyes. With me, you were crying. I tried to smile, but you don’t look at me.

It’s raining.

I see you for the last time. You can’t look at me. You are still pretty, more pretty, the prettiest. You’ll always be pretty. Even if this is the last time. Even if it’s raining.

The window knows about the secrets of this silent night. It knows about the end and about the rain.

This might be the last time. This might be the end.

It’s raining on the window. It’s still raining.

From your eyes, it rains. Looking up at the sky, it rains.

Let it rain. Let the rain wash away the pain.

Let it rain, let it rain.

Wash it all away.