There are things in life that are meant to be unfinished, and then, forgotten.

Like the writings that keep being saved as drafts and have never been published, or the letters that are tucked safely in the deepest corner of my drawer and are never meant to be posted, or Stuart’s portrait of George Washington.

Or, that one hour conversation which ended so abruptly that I even forget what we were talking about.

I only remember that we’ve never talked again since that night.