When I lost someone, I also traveled far and wide, but never wrote a letter to anyone. Probably, but it was hidden in the diary.
Writing letters is really a romantic thing. If I travel far again, I hope to have a direction in writing letters and not be lazy.
On the way to travel, you may not necessarily meet a couple who fell in love and separated, and you may not necessarily meet a girl who gambles heavily and she happens to borrow the gambling book from you and pay it back to you with interest. But you may meet street singers playing tambourines, or people who take away your wallet and camera when you are not ready, or women who are broken-hearted and walking alone, or you can meet people who are in love while walking on the road. Lovers, travel is just a part of life, it's not that good and it's not that bad.
How far is the distance between love and not love? What can I use to measure that distance? A bunch of keys, a blueberry pie, or a trip?
I will not give myself a chance not to love him, I will love him till old age and till death.
This is an excuse I give myself, in the name of love, to keep memories fresh and never expire.
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