This could end in so many ways, but this is how you meet yours.

• 

• 

So, here we are finally. I was about to start asking questions, because you took too long to get here. I thought you might lose your mind, but I get it—nothing hurts like hopes and dreams. We are nothing but stardust—live so fast, die too young.

Your brain completed its work. Now all you have is memories, mostly the good ones, a wound, and its size is a mystery. That’s what brains do, they erase the memory of pain and give you loads of other things in return.

• 

• 

Every encounter, every severance left things behind. Some we remember all too well. The rest are vaguely there, but always take the chance that comes their way to set things in motion.

It’s hard to come to a realization, but here you are, aware that you overlooked things back then, and now you understand why and how that brings things in the wrong direction. So, naturally, there are times when you wish you knew what you know now, and perhaps that’ll help you take the other turn instead and save you both from this whole occurrence. Because, if it was right back then, why wouldn’t it be now?

• 

• 

But then again, you wouldn’t know what you know now if that didn’t happen, would you?

There are things that wouldn’t be right if it wasn’t for her, or wrong too. Or the other way around. It was hard, and probably always will be. She took care of you and you were there for her. You promised her the world, and she promised you her whole life. Well, beautiful things come with a price.

• 

• 

Are you moving on, or letting go? Does it even matter? Or is it whatever it is?

You kind of wish for a conversation, sometimes. Knowing what you know now, some things might have better explanations. And in some kind of way, conceivably, you owe her some as well. Maybe you’d be lucky enough to have that chance, or for all one knows, it’ll be just like the rest of us: dealing with a ghost from a past from time to time. A ghost who pays a visit and we invite in many ways we can grasp.

In the end. You decide what you want to do with what’s left. And I believe you will embody beautiful things, eventually.

Summer,
Tidakkah kau dan aku pernah menanam bunga bersama?
Tidakkah kau menangis ketika aku berduka?
Aku, yang kehilanganmu dan berduka?