So Close But Yet So Far Mga Nobela at Kwento

Before he could finish, a car sped in from the side, closing the distance in an instant. Bang—!

He read me again, he always does. "Well, I'm just a little bit unwell, Mr. Bruce, you don't have to worry," I replied, and he smiled. "You miss that girl, right?" he said and he really impressed me until that moment. He was remarkably good in reading person, he always did. Hmm, I don't know," I just answered, but he was right, I missed that stupid future wife of mine so badly. I've been waiting for her answer that night, I knew she saw the ring and that note but I didn't receive any message from her.

Two nights without him seemed crazy although it was nothing new. Perhaps the difference was in knowing that, back in Seattle, he was within walking distance. I could walk, run, or drive for only a few minutes and I’d be at his door. Here, though… Here, we were nowhere near each other. Two days ago, faced with the prospect of walking away from him, I thought I missed him. I was wrong. Missing someone wasn’t the idea of leaving them. Missing them was knowing you’re so close yet so far away.

Call him, and him not being near enough to hear? Call him? ~~~ You can't grow apart from someone if you were never close to them in the first place. It's easier to grow apart from people that mean the most to you. It's so painful yet it is so easy. All the connection dissolved in the acid of time and distance while there remains the memories, the love, like a residue at the bottom, in their purest form, waiting to be stirred up again. ~~~ Flashback end::)) Win switch off his tv when Sam concrete is over.

Not healed. But closer. The distance hadn’t vanished. But it no longer felt infinite. And for now, that was enough.

I was so close, I was teetering on the edge just barely hanging on. XXX

--- And as silence stretched— As memories clashed with reality— As the space between who they were and who they had become grew impossible to bridge— One final truth emerged: --- Some distances— --- Are not meant to be closed. --- Because crossing them… --- Means losing what little remains of who you once were.

And whoever took her wanted me to know they were close. Very close. Close enough to watch. Close enough to wait. Close enough to strike next.

More addressed. "It knows we're moving toward it," I said. Damien didn't ask what I meant. "How far." "Getting closer," I said. "But it's not distance, exactly. It's more like." I stopped. Tried again. "Like a conversation where the other person has been waiting for you to start talking and they can tell you're finally on your way." He was quiet for a moment. "That's either very reassuring or very unsettling." "Both," I said. "Simultaneously."

Lingering. Unfinished. And dangerously close to becoming something neither of them could undo.