This is not a poem.

Are you real?
Are you not just an idea?
You are too perfect.
And we've only just met.

Before I laid eyes on you
I had warned myself,
he will not stay,
this guy will eventually go away.

Seven months into that night I still remember the impression.
I no longer remember the details of your face but I remember what I felt when I looked at you. It was a nice lovely feeling wasting the night away, hearing your silly laughters. You were teary eyed remembering your silliness.
It was a nice lovely feeling to be alive and be with a stranger, the likes of you.

During those times I noted, I will never see him again when he goes back to the US. Therefore, I looked at you longer when you were not looking. I tried to remember the details of your face against the dark of the night. I tried to remember the pitch of your voice, your accent, your gestures. Truly, memories fade. The same goes to the connection that we built.

When I remember that night, it felt so distant now. It felt as if I just woken out of a dream and I never really knew someone like you, like it never happened.

Was it just me? Because I felt the connection and you were there too. I guess I will bury the night when I happened to meet the only person, and that is you.