Years passed.
I still go to that bookstore sometimes.
Not every Wednesday anymore.
But when it rains.
There's a new bench now. The old one broke. But the memories stayed.
I never saw Lina again.
Never heard from her.
But every now and then, I think about her when I see someone with a yellow umbrella.
And sometimes… I think I see her walking ahead of me. Just far enough that I can't be sure.
Love isn't always something that lasts.
Sometimes it's something that teaches.
It teaches us how to feel, how to lose, and how to remember.
And maybe…
that's beautiful too.