The people you love, when they leave, become illusive. You try to imagine them, and you can't. You try to remember the way they smell, the way they felt in between your fingers. And the harder you try to remember, the more you realize how fleeting your imagination is.
There is no way to ever get that image for more than a flash of a second. The moment you try to hold onto it, the moment you say, "Hold it, that's it!" it's gone.
The only way to remember is to find real people, and to look at them, smell them, feel them between your fingers. And then you said, "Hold it, that's it!" and you realize that this is not the person you love. And you leave.