She was with me

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Everything is different now after the plague of our separation. Even the colors of the clouds have changed, our bright feelings have dimmed, and my heart, which used to play music, has become silent like the silence of a white page that pens have abandoned. And I sprinkle the memory with longing after you.

And by the way... death is not only when our breaths are buried beneath graves, but death is when we no longer feel alive while we are still alive and breathing.