Last Moments Last Forever – A Short Story

*brrrrrring* *brrrrrrring*

No one responded. As I felt the harsh, cold wind brush upon my skin, I shivered
while I pressed the redial button again.

*brrrrrring* *brrrrrring*

Still, no one responded.
I stood by the door outside the building where I’m working at, and shrugged off
the snow on my shoulders.


I slipped my phone into my pocket and started walking towards the parking lot.
It was really cold outside, mainly because it’s in the middle of winter season.
Like the freezing weather, the way my girlfriend, Anya, treats me is cold too.
Things haven’t been going well between us since we learned about her worsening
condition—leaving her with a few months to live. It was a terrible shock for us
after she passed out once and sent her to a doctor, only to know that her days are
already counted.

But the thing is, I love her.
I don’t want to give up. I will stick with her until the very end, believing in
that very small chance that she might still live on.

As I reached my car in the parking lot, my hand felt like it was freezing from the
cold air, and it took me immense strength to even pull the door handle. After
completing such a near-insurmountable task, I widely opened the door and went in.
Then I took my phone from my pocket and called her again.

*brrrrrrring* *brrrrrrring*

“Hello?” A familiar voice emerged from the speaker.

“Is your sister there, Macy?” I spoke.

“Oh—Anya? She’s asleep. Uhm… I think you should visit her sometime, even though
she tells you not to.”

“Hmmm. Yes I will. I’ll find some time this week when I’m not busy.”

“Really? Tell me when you’re coming, alright?”

“Sure thing. I will be going now. Send her my regards.”

“I will, I will. See ya!”

“See you, too.”


As I softly threw my phone onto the empty front seat, I found myself smiling so gently. I knew, that even though it’s just a little bit, my hopes are up knowing
that I would see her again after some time.


A busy week passed, and I went to her house after work. I knocked on their door,
and I was surprised that it suddenly opened.

It was Macy.

“Haaaaalloooo! I saw your car from inside, so I became eager to open this door for
you~”, she said playfully.

“Well, thanks… I guess. Anya’s here today, right?” I responded.

“Uhm, you see… She was a bit surprised just now after she knew you were coming,
so don’t worry. I hope you can settle some things with her later.”

“I hope so. I’ll be going to her room now, is that okay?”

“Sure! Go on.” She said as she walked back to their living room.

While I walked up the stairs toward her room, I felt somehow uneasy. In fact, I
have no idea what to say to her. The only thing that came to mind, is that I love
her, and I’m not going to give up on her. I knocked on the door, took a deep
breath, and twisted the door handle. The image that I saw was something utterly
beautiful yet painfully depressing. A pale, emotionless girl, lying down in bed,
looking at the cloudy, gray sky, is what I saw in front of me.

“Anya…” I muttered.

“Why are you here?” she said slowly, but with harsh intent.

I—didn’t know what to say to her. Yet, my mouth spewed out words without me

“I’m here to help you, Anya. I’m sorry I was busy a few weeks ago, that I didn’t
get to visit you.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to visit me again?” She spoke intently, as she faced me
with a frown on her face. “You should be living your life, and not going here to
do just nothing!”

“What do you mean? I’m not giving up on you, okay? You will heal, I promise.”

“Don’t promise things that are impossible! Stop it! Just—just go away from me!”

“You know I can’t do that! I love you, Anya. What should I do, to make you happy?”

“Go away from me.” she muttered, while facing the window again.

A long silence filled the small large room. Suddenly, I asked her,

“Anya… Do you still love me?”


She did not reply. She kept facing at the sky, seemingly unfazed.

“I will visit you again, okay?”

I left the room and went down the stairs, seeing Macy with a saddened face.

She spoke, “I heard both of you shouting for a moment there, is everything okay?”

“Uhhhh… Things are still the same.” I frowned. “Don’t worry, I will be visiting
again soon. Call me if anything happens, okay?”

“Sure thing. I will try to calm her down later. Sigh, I hope both of you will be

She made such a cute frown, like a child’s, even though she’s just a few years
younger than me. I patted her head and said, “Everything will be okay. Let’s just
hope for the best.”

As I went outside the house, I saw her looking outside, wearing the same
emotionless face as the one I saw when I went in. However, she did not look back
at me. I went to my car, and drove home, gritting my teeth in regret.


Months passed and everything was the same. However, her condition worsened. She
couldn’t walk anymore. Her legs finally gave up on her. I kept visiting her week after
week, sending her flowers, sweets, books, music albums—all those things which she
loved when we were still madly in love with each other. I kept telling her that I
love her, and she kept on telling me to let go.

It’s already summer. The sweltering heat felt like it’s burning me alive, wishing
that it was winter again. But no—I don’t want to remember what happened last

*brrrrriiiing* *brrrrriiiing*


“Hello! Macy here~” she spoke, with her usual playful voice.

“Hi there. Anya’s home, right? I am about to get there, so see you later.”

“Woah, chill! Don’t be such in a hurry. Yes, she is here. Also, I baked muffins
for you guys!”

“Thanks for the treat, I guess. I’ll just go now, okay?”

“Okaaaaay. Bye!”


I slipped my phone into my pocket, and went quickly to Anya’s place.

When I arrived outside the house, I heard a painful shriek.


I rushed quickly into her room, wasting not a single second. I went upstairs, and
saw Macy holding Anya with her arms, while the nurse administered her drugs into
her IV. I gasped for air, walking towards them with an exhausted gait.

Running out of breath, I spoke, “Anya… Anya… Uhhh, is she fine?”

The nurse replied, “No, she’s not. We have to send her to the hospital right now.”

This is devastating. I didn’t want her to deal with any more pain. I looked at her,
and she’s still gritting from the pain she just experienced. She was grasping for
her chest, which might mean that her heart was in problem. I went beside her bed
across Macy, and brushed her hair gently. With hushed words, I muttered, “It’s
going to be okay. Be strong, Anya. Be strong.”

She kept a pained expression. I could not imagine how much pain she just
experienced right now. It felt like I could feel her pain, too, but I was aware
that it’s not even close.

We went to the hospital, where she was confined to a bed. The doctor said, “She
might not survive very long. Anytime could actually be her end. We will closely
monitor her and keep you in contact for anything.”

For hours, I stayed in Anya’s room with her sister, while pondering about what to
do. Honestly, I didn’t know what to do. I was in complete hopelessness. What might
happen to her is beyond our control.

Breaking the silence of the room, I spoke to Anya. “Please be strong. I love
you. Please don’t give up…” I teared up, holding her hand tightly, hoping for a
miracle. Suddenly, her hand clenched, and she started screaming for pain.


“Anya— Uhhh… Macy! MACY! Call the doctor now!” I commanded.

“Okay, I’m at it!” She went out the room, panicking.

“Grett… Grett…” Anya spoke very softly.

“Anya…?” I said, holding her hand in despair.

“You know why Grett is your name?”

“Why? What is it?”

“It’s because… You’re the ‘grettest’ guy I ever loved.” She muttered, her face
smiling gently.

“Uhhh… Uhhhh…”

I tried to say something, but I just smiled at her joke as my tears dropped on my
grasping hand.

“Why are you doing this?” I spoke.

“Dear, I’m so sorry.”

I looked at her beautiful face, and wiped her flowing tears.

I said, “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I love you.”

“Grett, there are a lot of things I want to tell you, but I don’t have much time.”

“Just tell me now, Anya.”

“No, we don’t have much time, I’m telling you. Here is a note. Read it later.”

As I took the note from her shirt pocket, she clenched her hands again, and
screamed for pain.

I couldn’t do anything. All I can think of, was to stay beside her. Somehow, this was
very painful to look at. I wished that we could just switch places, but that’s

Anya looked at me, smiled, and said, “Grett, I love you.”

Her eyes slowly closed, and her clenched hand lost strength. My tears flowed like
there’s no end. It felt like it was happening forever.

The doctor and nurses arrived, along with Macy. She was shocked, and we stepped
aside from the room. There was a commotion, and the doctor was trying to revive her.
I opened the note, hoping to know the answers I was looking for. I could hear them
trying to resuscitate her, and all while confused, I started reading.


Dear Grett, I’m so sorry for being stupid. Please forgive me for that.
You have been trying really hard to cheer me up, haven’t you?

I know that I’m going to die soon, so I’m going to tell you everything now. I
love you, Grett. And that is why I was trying to make you leave. I don’t want you
to get hurt even more.


But you are crazy persistent. I keep telling you to go, and you keep on coming
back. Finally, I realized, that maybe, just maybe, we can settle things before my
life ends.

Remember the times when we played our favorite music in your car for hours? Damn
that was silly. There are a lot of things we can reminisce together, but it’s now
too late for that.


Grett, you are a weird person. You are silly, totally awkward, clumsy, and don’t
know how to talk to people. But you know, everything else about you is amazing to
me. You are resilient, patient, caring, passionate, and hard-working.


Thank you for not leaving me. Please take care of yourself. Take care of my
little sister. Don’t try to hide your emotions anymore. Even in our small time
together, you taught me one very important thing: Never give up on the one you

I love you, Grett. I really do.

I didn’t hear a beep anymore. My tears flowed endlessly, dampening the note that I
was reading. I looked at Macy, and she, too was crying. Macy hugged me tightly,
and there’s one thing that’s certain. The doctor said, “I’m sorry. She didn’t make
it.” I kept on weeping, repeating the words, “Anya… Anya…”

As I inspected the damp note once again, there was still a sentence left, which
was behind the fold.

Next time, let’s have a muffin tea party again.

I smiled and cried at the same time.


A Failed Love Story’s Epilogue

It has been more than a year since we last said goodbye to each other.
Even then, it is still etched deeply into my memory—that goodbye was the most heartbreaking one.

I might have fallen into despair, but I stood my ground and stayed strong, not to fall in love again, after doing it a million times before. After being in love for so long, how it felt being finally “single” wasn’t bad at all. After all, there was totally nothing to worry about anymore. Yet, I still see myself constantly seeking for inspiration—the one thing I have lost when she finally left my life.

You know, sometimes I wished we were still together.
Sometimes, I wished that we were still close, like friends.
But I could never avoid being a distant stranger to the one I vowed never to fall in love again with.

And yet, I think I still miss her.


How can you understand the world,
when the world doesn’t even understand you?
Even more, how do you start to understand yourself in the first place?

I have depression and understanding emotion is probably the hardest part in living. Yeah, I can still experience happiness, sadness, anger, and excitement—but to understand why I feel that way? I really don’t know how.
Maybe, all of this is just an abstract concept that everyone isn’t aware of, or maybe I’m the only one I know who is incapable of doing it.

You may think that this is completely normal. There are times when people are confused about themselves. But I am aware of that too, and what I am currently experiencing is totally different from that.

Sometimes, I would just play games, hoping to be a professional gamer.
Sometimes, I would try drawing, hoping to become an artist.
Sometimes, I would try writing, hoping to become a novelist.
Sometimes, I would try programming, hoping to become a game developer.

My dreams have always been heavily inspired by my own emotions, yet I always lack the much needed motivation. At the end of the day, I would feel worthless.


I would blame my hyperactive and  over-ambitious mind for this.

You see, I never stop thinking. I never stop dreaming.
My mind does not relax, and I am aware of it every single second.
Even if I am doing something which requires an extremely coherent train of thought, my brain still manages to slip its thoughts within.
And it’s difficult. Sometimes agonizing.
Sometimes, I couldn’t sleep. Relaxation can spawn terrible thoughts.
Worst thing of all, I don’t understand any of it—any of this.

I want to know what I really yearn for.


What I yearn for—
I might have lost it already, back when I lost hope for myself.
Ambitions are of no use, when you want to cease even your own existence.

After I tried killing myself back then, I guess, I tried to look for what I wanted for myself.
Until now, I haven’t found it yet. I’m afraid I wouldn’t.

Up until now, living still seems like a pain.
Because I believe, that life is only worth living, if there is something you truly yearn for.


I can’t fully explain what is depression, because I can’t fully explain myself either.

Nevertheless, I will tell you what if feels like, how a single day goes for a person with depression like me.

You wake up, and you don’t know what to do with your life.
You have no will of getting up from bed.
You might get up to eat. Sometimes, you don’t.
You browse social media for bullshit that means nothing.
You go outside, and the sun shines brightly, the sky a perfect clear blue in color, along with a very nice breeze—and you want to appreciate it, but you can’t.
You think of doing something, but you don’t have any will to do it.
You got caught up in a conversation with your friendly neighbor, and you put up a facade, trying to ‘express emotion’, yet you seem unfazed after doing it. No effect.
Things repeat, time passes, and it’s night time.
Your day ends, and you feel like you’ve done nothing.
You feel like shit, and you cry yourself to sleep.

And you wake up again.


Continue to Live

You will never know when it is going to come to you—and that is the most terrifying thing about depression.

Before I knew I had it, I always thought that everything was going well for me. Of course, some problems might appear here and there, but those things were nothing to worry about. I trusted myself that I could fix them eventually. Feelings of sadness, anxiousness and confusion, were normal—as I once believed. I knew I was strong enough to tackle the hardships which I was about to face, because most people could manage to do so, anyway. Honestly, I couldn’t exactly remember the sequence of events which happened to me, and I couldn’t exactly understand anything that happened either, but at the very least I’m glad to be still alive to tell what I have experienced.

This is quite unlikely, because I have a loving family. I have a father who works really hard, and despite him not being that close to me, not having ordinary conversations or just plain chit-chat—actually quite cold, I knew that he puts all of his love for us on his work. My mom, on the other hand, is the clingy one; our relationship feels like being best friends, talking gossip and sharing secrets. Also, I’m the biggest brother apart from my three siblings, and aside from a few petty fights on some occasions, all of them would really miss me when I’m not home. I wasn’t pressured to do anything big, too. I liked joining lots of science contests when I was in elementary school, and also a few during high school, but no one ever pressured me to get a medal. My grades were decent, and it was enough to let me graduate for college. However, as I look back, I might have pressured myself a little bit because of the people who dote on me when I was still very young.

When I was still a toddler, those who knew me regarded me as an exceptional child, being able to learn basic things really quickly. I would just sit down at libraries and read for hours. My mom would even get mad at me for camping in our house library, as I messed up the books which I painstakingly shoveled from the very back of the bookshelves. I skipped a year of kindergarten, because they said that it was already too easy for me. But most of all, as I grew up, having medals here and there, people were telling me things, like having potential and stuff. I guess, it was ingrained into me that I should be achieving, doing more things than what I was currently doing at that time. I thought—I was underachieving. I guess it was my fault, too. I was pressuring myself, and I wasn’t aware of it. I cried to tears when I got my first substandard grade, and I cried even more after horribly failing my research subject during high school. I would then just douse my stress with video games, playing for hours, days, and weeks, all while seeking achievement in something virtual.

Although, it was nothing detrimental. I thought everything will be fine. I went into college, getting all enthusiastic and excited, not knowing the hell and horrors which entail in the future. Ever since, I was never good at handling with my anxiety. I would just think about it again and again, theorizing on how to fix my damn problems and forming resolutions in my head. It was all okay at first; my mom was there beside me to help me cope with it mentally. However, when I moved into the capital city where my college’s at, I was then all alone. Apart from that, it felt really claustrophobic living in a college dorm. You can’t go out at night, so I really missed doing late-night strolls like I did back home. It’s really noisy for my standards; hundreds of students in a single building, so noise was inevitable. However, what I feared the most, is how I would manage my funds, because living in the city is really expensive. Actually, my family is quite poor. All of my parents’ income are being put into me and my siblings’ education, and thus, we have been living in ‘wooden shacks’ for so long, because we thought that having a good house wasn’t necessary. After my grandparents died, we moved there to live; the place was old, but at least, it’s better than a shack. Only recently that we had a concrete house, after our neighbor helped us with the construction. I never had my own room; I only shared with my siblings, and we would just study and play together in a single room. Food is really cheap in our province, which was totally different from the city. I was struggling with my budget, and I told my dad about it, so he was giving me some extra allowance for my sake. Yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much he has been giving me, and I was worried that he might overwork himself just to give me this extra money, and I couldn’t sleep because of that.

As I grew weary from my studies and daily worrying, my dorm bills stacked up, and I have been receiving notes on my door, telling me to pay, whenever I got back from my classes. I didn’t like the dorm’s scheme on food catering, because everyone was forced to pay a monthly due for some shitty food, with meal times at strict schedules. The fact is, my schedule conflicts with the meal schedules, and I would just eat outside every time and spend a whole lot more. Those notes about unpaid dues appear on my door with increasing frequency, and since then, I would feel really scared and anxious every time I go back to my room. Every single time I turn along the boys’ hallway, it feels like checking if there’s a gun ready and pointed at you or not. Months passed and I never got to pay those dues, because I thought didn’t want my parents to overwork—a horrible mistake on my part.

One night, while I was studying, I received a knock on my door. I expected it to be a friend, but it was the dorm manager, calling me to her office. At that moment, I was extremely terrified. I was never good at handling my anxiousness, and my fear levels at that time was beyond measure. She then told me that a letter will been sent to my parents about my bills, if I couldn’t pay it in time. I knew it was the death of me. After I came back to my room, I just lied down on my bed, with my face up, and just stared at the ceiling for hours. Ever since, I was afraid to see that person again. I would cut all my classes, just to avoid going out to the lobby, where her office is located at. I skipped my meals. I locked my door 24/7. I would think about it again and again and again and again, making scenarios on how to pay my bills. I would sometimes cry at night, feeling completely worthless and helpless. I never talked to my parents about it. I was really scared and afraid, yet I told them that everything is okay. Every single day locked up in my room for three months, feeling like a worthless piece of shit, and then—I thought, that I didn’t want to live anymore. I thought that I failed such a petty task; that I failed on something so simple. It wasn’t cancer or anything life-threatening, but I knew I was fucked up and had nowhere to go. And then I did something pretty terrible. I don’t want to speak about it yet; I don’t think I’m ready. But eventually it got paid by my parents, and I went home with more terrible things happening. It was then that my parents found out about my depression, and they haven’t even understood it yet, even after knowing it. Lots of shit happening. I don’t remember most of it anymore, because I become extremely irrational whenever I go down into another episode of depression.

Until now, I’m still suffering from it. I took a break from college, hoping everything will be fine. I got a doctor, and I’m about to undergo therapy and medication.
Before I end this ‘vent’, I’ll make it clear about the point of all of this text I’m writing. Depression is life-threatening. It’s not cancer, it’s not AIDS, or anything close to it, but don’t take depression lightly just because it’s a mental thing.

Depression is a mental disability. It is the lack of will to live. It is the brain going into a depressive train wreck. You don’t know it, but depression makes living a real pain, and it takes an immense amount of willpower to keep on living. However, as a depressed individual, we don’t want you to understand us. You just might end up misunderstanding and doing more harm. Anyway, you don’t have to. We don’t even understand ourselves with it. All we want you to do, is to appreciate us. That’s all I want, really.

As I am typing these final words, I never thought I would shed tears, even though I have Clair de Lune playing as my background music (really). I’m crying because I thought about my parents and siblings who love me very much, and that they would miss me really much and cry a lot if I ended myself. I thought about my teachers who told me to never give up, because I knew that they believed in me. I thought about my best friends, who really helped me when I told them that I had depression, because I knew that they really cared. And last of all, I thought about myself, that it wasn’t really worth it if I ended my life back then, because during when I’m depressed, I could never think about all the good things in life that I failed to notice before, which I would then regret in the afterlife.

I might not be happy now, but at the very least, I’m a little bit happy for all the help that these people gave me. They are the wonderful things in life, I admit. That’s why I hope to live even more, and make them happy, with my own efforts, in return.


Special thanks to Franklin, Ryan, Nikko, and LIM. You, bitches, are the best.

Reminiscent Feelings, Reminiscent Words


After the time we last met, after what has happened, I did not know why, but I smiled. I cried, but I smiled while crying. Maybe this is what I’ve been waiting for. The killing blow. Everyday, I think—I think a lot. And every doubt has broken me piece by piece. I know I have been enduring for so long, and I wanted answers. Thank you, dear, for giving me the answers. You have no fault. It’s no one’s fault. It just didn’t work out the way I wanted it to be, but I can’t force you anymore. I may not be okay right now, but don’t worry—I’m going to be okay. But since it’s probably over, I’m going to leave a few things behind here.

I’m sorry for all the times I let you down, dear. I am genuinely sorry. You are just so nice to forgive me everytime. I can’t explain it. You are magnificent, amazing, beautiful and lovely in every way. And I’m lucky to have you even for just a while. Even if it’s over, I don’t regret anything. I’m happy with the choices that I made. For a short time, dear, you were everything that I could ever ask for.

For the record, you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me. The time we first met personally, you introduced me to whole different kind of music, and it’s now the kind of music that I really adore. The time I made you really mad, was the time I really learned how to keep promises. The time you let me take your hand, was the time I learned that there will always be second chances. And our last talk was a meeting I will never forget. It broke me apart, but it made me even stronger. And as I slowly drift back through time, all that what has been, will become a memory. But you… you… You won’t become just a memory to me. Instead, there’s a special place for you at the back of my mind. There should be, of course, since you were the one who changed me the most. I appreciate you. I admire you. I’m still going to care for you. I’m still going to miss you. Someday, even if we’re not together, I’m going to tell my kids about the memories I had with you. About how great you were. And I’m going to tell them, that there’s nothing wrong with not giving up, even if it hurts them, because going all the way is going to teach them a lot more than giving up too early.

You made a mark in my life. A memory that’s more than five years in the making. A memory that will remind me of you, and everything about you. And I bet no one will ever be just like you.

Thanks for everything. You made me really happy.

We Will Never Be

Thought Catalog

Flickr / Luca BoldriniFlickr / Luca Boldrini

That I love you, and in an instant, I knew, you can never love me too. A million eternities may pass, but I only do know about one thing, and that is I love you, and I’ll love you for the rest of your days. You can’t fill those gaps. You won’t. You never will. Love is not a contract where the obligation to love is reciprocally demandable. It is never demandable. It is never bilateral. I can love you without you giving it back. I’ll do. I still do. I will forever do. And if I have to walk the earth a thousand folds just to prove to you that I do, I’ll do. I still do. I will forever do. Every inch of you brightens up my day while I’m in pitch black. It’s a sunny day, undeniably sunny, but it’ll forever be gloomy…

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The List of Everything About You

Don’t get me started with this. If I were to enumerate the things that make me crazy on a daily basis, it’s going to be a really loooooooong list. And probably, 95% of the list would actually be about you.

The problem is that it’s too much, that it overwhelms me. In my eyes, you are too beautiful– and there’s no one else other than you.

You know, you have a smile that is so perfect to me, and every time I see it, I can’t help but fall even harder. Every single day, I swear I’m falling even harder. Your short hair, the pretty expressions that you make, your awkward gestures, your cute laugh, your mesmerizing voice— the list goes on. You may not be perfect, but in my eyes, you are. Once again, you are infallible.

You are awkward. You fawn over books and bands. You eat slowly. Sometimes, you have a weird laugh. You always have this white earring on your ear. You look good with glasses. You always wear jeans. If I would add more to this list, I would sound like a stalker (I’m not), but dear, this is what I notice about you– even the little things that you do. And I like them, because it’s all about you.

I am sorry that I feel this way. Sometimes, I think that maybe, I’m not good enough for you. But I will do my best, and try to add more to that list of mine– the list of everything I like about you. What I mean is: please realize that, to a certain person, you’re the most beautiful one. And whenever he looks at you, he hopes with all his might that you’ll look back too.


Lethargic and unmotivated. This is what I feel when I look outside the window and see the gray sky being painted by the clouds. It makes me feel bothered and distressed, to the point where I just can’t do anything straight. And at times like this, the only thing that I long for, is to see the clear blue sky, scarcely filled with white fuzzy clouds that drift through the wind. And it is at that moment, where I feel like I could definitely do anything, no matter what it may be.

And this is what you do to me.

You are like the weather– unpredictable. And I have no control over it. I can only do what I could do, as long as the weather allows me. Sometimes it shines so brightly outside that it’s really nice to go out, but sometimes there are days when the rain is pouring down so hard, and I’m stuck, unable to do anything.

And because of this, there’s only one season I long for:


Specifically, an eternal summer.

Probably, this is too much to ask for– a never ending season of minimal rain. But what else could I ask for, after all this time being under the pouring weather?


I know what most summers don’t last forever. I also know that there is always a rainy season after the summer. But without this weather, my life would be completely bland and uninteresting. There’s no point in going out anymore, since there’s nothing else to experience.

It’s cloudy right now, and I couldn’t write that well, but I’ll tell you once again:
Seasons might last longer than expected, and storms might trample my path, but you are my weather.

After the fall, comes the cold winter. But eventually,  spring will come in time, and finally, our long-awaited summer.

I Don’t Know How To Not Love You

Thought Catalog

I love you and I don’t know how not to.

People say I should get over you. They say that I deserve someone better and you’re just not good for me. They say that I will only get heartache after heartache if I continue loving you. They told me to move on but how can I when I don’t know how to?

Our relationship started in the most unexciting way, nothing special, nothing worth storytelling but it was always my favorite. We were doing so great that it made me think that we could go on forever. We talked every night about almost everything, the past, the present and the future. No matter how crappy or happy my day was, at the end of the day I had something to look forward to — talking to you. It was as if you made my day complete. You made me happy…

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Beyond the Darkness

It was dark. Everything was dark around him.
However, he felt safe. He quite noticed that he was moving slowly, in rhythm.
The faint melody, which was somewhat familiar to him, grew louder and louder.
Then, he heard a voice, disembodied from the darkness. It was a voice of a girl, singing to the melody.
Every step he makes is in rhythm with the beautiful music. He also felt a surge of emotions from the beating of the sound.
However, he felt some warmness on his shoulders. After his sense of touch regained consciousness, he realized that his hands were softly embracing someone, as if it’s so fragile that it needs to be protected.
The pitch black surroundings slowly became saturated with a little bit of light, but it was still difficult for him to see clearly.
Yet, he saw a face. Amid the dim light, her face illuminated; it was like a shining moon on a starless sky.
She was looking away, but holding him ever so tightly.
They were dancing slowly but gracefully along with the sweet music. Every second, the lovely sound was gripping their hearts with emotion.
And he felt that they were connected; he thought he has felt her heart.
But it was still full of darkness around them. Her bright face slowly went dimmer. In the end, he couldn’t tell the look on her face.

However, it was all that he had. He hoped that it would last forever, despite the sound going weaker and weaker as time slowly passed. It slowly became dark, almost pitch-black. The music slowly disappeared. The warmth, which made him feel safe, became cold.

But he was smiling. All of it was probably gone, but he never felt any kind of sadness.
Even if it lasted for just a short time, it was one of the very few moments that he was completely happy. And at that moment, what only mattered to him was to experience the same feeling again.