Their lives go back and forth between "crossing over" and "passing through".
He remembered the moles on her wrists and earlobes, the smell of red and orange light. She remembered the tattoos on his body, the rhythm of his silence, the words he never spoke.
"But our directions are different. What's the use of me remembering all this?"
What they do best is make things end in a way that everyone can accept.
But when it was their turn, no one took action...
Intention: I let you go not because I don't love you anymore. It's because I love you, but I know your path is not with me.