Now you see it... now you don't.

Swiftly gone. I miss the way my laughter made you laugh. It was a simple gift to give. And every now and then I think back to those moments and grieve their passing, like flowers in fall. It's spring now, and things are anew with the Sakura trees popping pink in delight. But each moment is ephemeral and is subject to the ceaseless cycles of growth.

And though it wasn't intentional. Things disappear into thin air, as if objects in a magic trick.