Is it true?

Is it true that you can see your whole life passing in front of your eyes like a video, just before you die?
Is it true that you were embarrassed to even look at me, when I shivered my way through a speech?
Is it true that I could feel your breadth on my fingers, when I spread opened the tabloid on a central?
Is it true that you’ve been regretting me as a mistake?
Is it true that you embraced me in the middle of the blues?
Is it true that you tried to shield me with your embraces in the middle of a moving chaotic lifeline?
Is it true that you followed my hands dodging the chaos, which was eventually a reason for me to hold the most beautiful hands ever?
Is it true that you believed that I caged the closed ones from you? Is that the level you feel I would stoop?
Is it true that we could never take eyes off each other even during normal circumstances?
Is it true that we end up being too comfortable with each other that you start ignoring me?
Is it true that every perfect imperfection of yours made me addicted to you?
Is it true that you called out for me through your messenger, while you lay in the chariot?
Is it true that we waved our hands to the warm wind in the cave on the move?
Is it true that we witnessed the most spectacular view of the moon and its reflection on the river flowing below the bridge?
Is it true that you just forgot the ‘GOODDAY’ at the end of the day and I had no choice left but to take it as a ‘GOODBYE’?
Is it true that after knowing all this that you unidentified, alienated and disassociated yourself reasoning practicality?