She would have been proud of the man I turned to be; a gentleman by day, a philosopher by night, a pervert by choice and a rebel by fate, she would've commended both my behaviors my attire, messed up my hair mocked my mustache and hated my beard.
She would've enjoyed my sweet talk, and how I occasionally tease her by sweet-talking others, knowing that at the end of each day it's only her who deserves that talk.
She would've made fun of my glasses and would've took them off and wore them and she would've took a picture of herself wearing my glasses.
She would've admired my black coat, she would've wore it on cold nights like this one, and she would've despised how my shirts are either too big or too small, even the fit ones; she would've despised their colors, patterns or fabric, she would've hated my music and would've forced me to listen to hers' while she secretly enjoy some of mine.
She would've stolen my hand-rolled cigarettes right from my fingers, she would've ruined my cigarettes case and she would've sipped some of my coffee.
She would've bragged about everything in her life, including knowing me, and she would've occasionally pushed me away; telling me that I find beauty in the wrong places, while I believe I found hers' at the wrong time.
She would've recognized my silent moments, she would've loved them too; that stare of an old man into the void, she would've broke that silent with her lively talks, funny thoughts, childish acts or an adorable laughter.
All these thoughts have had hit me while pointlessly driving an extra 500 meters, listening to a track from my forbidden playlist; The Messiah Will Come Again, the track ended at the middle of my moment of belief, those 500 meters looked endless at this young dying night... and I can't shake that one thought; the Messiah will come again.