Some Last Words

Cassian Vale didn’t cry at the funeral. Not when the priest said her name. Not when they lowered the casket. Not even when the wind carried the scent of her favorite flowers—white hyacinths, sharp and too sweet for July.

But now, three weeks later, standing in her tiny attic with a box of half-finished manuscripts in one hand and a faded Polaroid in the other, he could feel it—something shifting, cracking open. 

The attic was warm. Dusty. Uncomfortable.

She’d only been gone for twenty-two days, and already the house felt like a museum: curated, preserved, and completely abandoned. He was the only one who cared enough to pack up her things. His uncles had barely shown up for the service. His cousins treated grief like an old suit. And his father? His father had been a ghost long before his mother ever became one.

He crouched by an old trunk, running his fingers over the cracked leather lid. That was when the memory hit him.

Easter.

The last time he’d seen her alive. The last time they’d been just the two of them. No noise. No sharp words from sharp-tongued relatives. Just them and a pot of tea.

She had looked at him over the rim of her mug and said, with that sly smile of hers, “Why haven’t you settled down yet, Cass?”

He’d shrugged. Said something lazy. “Still enjoying my freedom.”

But that wasn’t the truth.

The truth was uglier. Deeper. The kind of truth that lived in a closet full of skeletons.

He was afraid.

Afraid of being like him.

Before marriage, his mother had been a rising star. Quantum physicist. Published author. A mind that bent reality and made it beg for answers. And beautiful—so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her in those old photos. Hair like sunlight. Eyes that laughed before her mouth caught up.

And then she married his father.

The sparkle dimmed. The laughter cracked. She stopped wearing mascara because she cried too often. Her shirts were always wrinkled. Her voice quieter. Her back a little more hunched each year.

Love, it turned out, could be a cage.

And he was terrified he’d become the jailer.

Cassian sat on the floor now, cross-legged like a boy again. He held a polaroid in his hand. It was one of the rare ones—a picture of his parents together. Younger. Smiling. Back when she still sparkled.

He turned it over.

There was writing on the back. Slanted. Faint.

It was hers.

 

Cassian,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. I knew the end was coming—I just didn’t want to dim your world with my shadow while I was still here.

I saw it in your eyes that day at Easter. That fear. That belief that you’re cursed to repeat your father’s sins.

You’re not.

Do you know how I know?

Because I raised you. I taught you how to be kind and how to be strong. I taught you how to walk away when the room turns toxic and how to listen when someone’s voice shakes.

I didn’t raise a monster, Cassian. I didn’t raise a mistake.

I raised a man. A good one.

You will not dim her light. You will love her. And that will be enough.

 

—Mom

 

The grief didn’t come all at once. They didn’t flood. Didn’t crash.

They came like her voice. Soft. Steady. Certain.

Cassian Vale sat in the attic, surrounded by the remnants of the woman who had given him life—and, with one letter, had just handed it back to him.

Dysfunctional Over-Thinker

Rei used to think heartbreak came with violins and torrential rain. But no—it's in the awkward silence when he doesn’t text back and the tight smile when he says, “I’ve just been busy.” Every breath felt like breathing in rare, thin air, wondering if he even wanted to be here. 

How much sad did he think she had in her small stature? Enough to stick around for his half-love? Nah. She's tragic, sure, but she draws the line at self-implosion. So, she blocked his number, bought overpriced ice cream, and inhaled it like revenge. And guess what? Breathing’s easier already.

The thing is, she wanted it to hurt more. Like, if he's gonna break her heart, at least make it Oscar-worthy. But nope. No grand finale, no tear-soaked monologue—just her, realizing she cared more about his ‘busy schedule’ than he ever did about her favorite ice cream flavor. (It’s salted caramel, by the way. Superior choice.) 

So, here she is, alive, un-imploded, and maybe—just maybe—better off. Because if love feels like gasping for air, maybe it’s not love. Maybe it’s just waiting for someone who never shows up. And honestly? She's got better things to do.

Python*

The first time I saw Liam Bourbon, he was breaking my heart. Not in a metaphorical, slow-burn way—but in a literal, game-ending way. A dodgeball to the chest, straight from his wickedly accurate hands.

“Sorry,” he said, jogging over, all messy curls and unfairly perfect dimples. “Didn’t mean to take you out.”

I was still on the floor, gasping. From the impact. Definitely not from the way his hand brushed mine.

“You’re a menace,” I muttered.

*a song by GOT7 that inspires this piece. The lyric goes: shot through the chest I was falling for the shooter.

High School Crash

"Is crashing into people, like, your hobby or something?" Nate asked, one eyebrow raised as he steadied Emma by the shoulders.

She blinked up at him, momentarily dazed. “Well, it's either that or calculus club, and this one’s more interactive.”

A grin spread across his face, clearly entertained. “And here I thought football practice was intense.”

Emma shrugged, brushing herself off as if nearly plowing into Nate Harrison was no big deal. “You should see me on a Monday morning. Total chaos.”

Nate chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the locker beside her. “So, what’s your name, Miss Chaos?”

She lifted her chin, trying to match his casual confidence. “Emma,” she replied, slipping a note of challenge into her voice. “And you must be Nate, human obstacle extraordinaire.”

“Ouch.” He clutched his heart dramatically. “But fair enough. And hey, maybe next time, you’ll stick around to chat instead of running off to play bumper cars.”

She smirked, glancing at the clock. “Who says I won’t?”

With a quick wave, Emma slipped into the stream of students, leaving him behind, looking intrigued. Nate was still watching her, as if she’d somehow managed to surprise him, and she felt a small thrill. Maybe she had.

The Ugly Heidi

 “Isn't he your first love?” Heidi asked, like it wasn't rude to say that to someone she hadn’t seen in two decades. Especially considering she used to bully that someone back in high school.

“You must have at least regretted it. He's the one who got away for you, right?” she pressed on.

I could feel my cheek redden.

Not from embarrassment, but because she thought I was. She thought she’d won something. That she’d found a soft spot, a crack to poke at. She thought she managed to humiliate me.

“What an odd thing to ask a married woman,” I replied coldly.

“It's not odd unless you still like him,” she said, almost too brightly. “Or if you still remember those memories from time to time.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw him glance our way—like he could feel his name in the air, even unspoken. I regretted coming to this ridiculous reunion instantly. If only I hadn’t lost that silly dare with Nia, I’d be at home now, pouring wine and watching something mindless.

He looked older, of course. But not worse. Just... real. The kind of aging that comes with fall foliage and maybe a dog. Or a child. I didn’t know. We never stayed in touch.

He shifted across the room, like he could feel us talking. I didn’t look directly, but I could sense the weight of nostalgia passing between us like a ghost no one invited.

But I wasn’t here for him. I wasn’t even here for closure.

I was here because I lost a stupid bet with Nia and promised to stop avoiding things just because they were awkward. And honestly, this wasn’t even awkward. It was just... boring.

I don’t regret how it ended. Not because he was awful—he wasn’t. But because I ended up with someone who meets me every day with kindness and effortless love. Someone who doesn't haunt my memories because he's part of my present.

Still… (and I believe this is an important thing to affirm) I didn’t feel the need to say that out loud. People like Heidi feed on proof.

I smiled faintly and took a sip of my drink. “You can think whatever you want, Hun. That’s certainly your thing, not mine.”

And for a second, she blinked—like she couldn’t quite tell if she’d won or lost.

Useless Umbrellas

They’d been together through a lot—midnight talks, weekend drives, lazy Sunday mornings. The kind of easy everyday moments that feel like they’ll stretch on forever. But tonight, walking side by side, the silence between them felt heavier than ever.

Dinner was fine, in a polite, distant sort of way. They talked about work, swapped stories, filled the air with small talk, but neither of them seemed to reach out, really. And with each pause, she felt the gap between them widening.

On their way back, she tried to lighten the mood. “Remember our first date? You laughed the whole time I tried to hide that coffee stain on my sweater.”

He chuckled, the kind of laugh that felt more like memory than joy. “You were so embarrassed.”

It was quiet again after that, and as they reached her street corner, he stopped, looking down as if he’d found something incredibly interesting on the sidewalk.

“Maybe…we’re clinging to something we shouldn’t be,” he murmured.

She nodded, both of them knowing it was true but not quite ready to say it out loud.

They exchanged a few quiet goodbyes, both weighed down by things they knew they couldn’t carry anymore.

As she walked home alone, she couldn’t shake the thought: sometimes love is like an umbrella—a shelter in the rain but a burden when the sun comes back out.

***

Writer's Note:

I've been keeping a lot of extremely short stories like this in my vault. I'll set them free and let them breath some fresh air (by publishing them here).

Botany Bethany

She was running late and barely caught the elevator before it closed, wedging herself in next to a guy carrying a plant nearly as tall as he was. He was wrestling to keep it upright, his arm stretched awkwardly around the leafy branches.

“Rough day for the green guy?” she asked, smirking.

He looked over, a little breathless, and grinned. “You’d think I was moving a small tree, not a ficus.”

She laughed, crisp and authentic. “How’s it going? You need an extra hand?”

“Honestly, yeah,” he admitted, shifting the plant toward her. “I think it’s taking me hostage.”

She held one side of the plant as he rearranged his grip, and somehow, between the awkward balancing act and his half-joking apologies, she found herself enjoying the whole ridiculous moment.

When the elevator dinged, he looked at her and said, “Want to grab coffee sometime? I promise it’ll be a lot less...botanical.”

A Short Drive

The engine sputtered once, twice, and then gave up entirely. A groan escaped before the car did, and the hazard lights blinked on like an apology to the line of cars forming behind.

“Need a hand?” The voice came from the car that had pulled up next to hers, window rolled down, music faint in the background.

“Unless you’re a mechanic or a magician, probably not,” she replied, leaning out to get a better look. He was in a faded hoodie, a ball cap backward on his head, and an expression somewhere between amused and genuinely helpful.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m both,” he quipped. “Hop in. There’s a garage a couple of blocks away.”

A pause. Not because she didn’t want help, but because this felt like a setup for either the beginning of a terrible true-crime podcast or the best ‘how we met’ story of all time.

“Promise not to kidnap me?”

“Promise not to criticize my playlist?” he shot back, holding up an air freshener shaped like a pineapple as if that was proof of trustworthiness.

She grabbed her bag, locked the car, and slid into the passenger seat. “This better be a short drive,” she warned with a grin.

Just Joe

 

She’d only ducked into the coffee shop to charge her phone and wait out the rain. She didn’t expect it to be packed, with just one empty seat left at the crowded counter.

He glanced over and nodded at the empty stool. “Go for it. Perfect view of everyone dodging the rain,” he said, his grin easy and warm.

She took the seat, pulling out her phone. “Thanks. I’m about two minutes from a dead battery.”

“Is it that kind of day?” he asked with a smirk, gesturing to the charging station. “I’m Joe, by the way.”

“Joe…” she echoed. “Is that short for Jonathan?”

“Nah. Just Joe.” He smiled like he was used to getting that question. “Nothing fancy.”

She took him in—there was something about him that was different. She’d met a lot of Joes: all a bit cocky, good-looking, always with that self-assured “I got this” vibe. But this Joe had a quiet kind of charm, like he was entirely comfortable just… being here.

Finding Sophie

Sophie stood in front of the mirror, brushing through her tangled hair, faint traces of last night’s tears clinging to her lashes. The breakup had been clean, no big dramatic scene, just a slow unraveling. She knew it was for the best, but that didn’t make it easier.

Her phone buzzed with a text from her best friend, Mia: "Coffee? I’m not letting you spend another Saturday afternoon rewatching rom-coms and pretending it’s all good."

Sophie smiled, because Mia had a point. She could wallow, or she could be a little more herself—the self who used to laugh over cheap coffee and argue about whether the Croissant Girl or the Muffin Guy was the best pastry choice.

In the café, Mia’s face lit up when she saw Sophie. “Look at you,” she said, reaching for a hug. “I know the post-breakup glow is usually just dehydration and lack of sleep, but I swear you’re pulling it off.”

Sophie laughed, something light and free. “Thanks.”

They spent the next few hours talking about everything except the ex—work, random news, the latest Netflix doc. At some point, Sophie realized her heart didn’t hurt as much. Maybe it would again later, but for now, she was just Sophie, sitting in a café with a friend, laughing at things that were completely unrelated to some boy she'd likely forget someday.

And that felt like enough.

A Little Too Tall To Be Fragile

She’d just wrapped up practice and was waiting for her coffee order, scrolling through her phone, barely aware of the commotion around her. After an intense day on the court, she just wanted her iced latte and a moment to relax.

That’s when he crashed into her—literally. Tall and lanky, with an apologetic smile, he fumbled his cup and splashed cold coffee across her sneakers.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” he stammered, grabbing napkins like his life depended on it. “I didn’t see you there.”

She laughed, brushing it off, used to her height making her impossible to miss. “Guess that’s a first for me,” she said, grinning as she wiped her shoes. “Most people usually see me coming from a mile away.”

He looked her up and down, taking in her six-foot frame, her athletic build. “Yeah, you’re definitely… hard to miss,” he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Is that so?” she asked, amused by his lack of intimidation—something she rarely found in people who weren’t also pro athletes.

“So, do you play basketball?” he asked, clearly just trying to make conversation.

“Close,” she shot back, arching an eyebrow. “Volleyball.”

He gave a sheepish laugh, clearly impressed. “Well, now I feel clumsy and out of my league.”

Gulp It

You know those things you swear you’ll never get tangled up in? Like drama, or trends, or anything with a hashtag? I used to watch people get swept into them, shaking my head, thinking, "That’s not my scene." I’d scroll past stories of people falling in love with their gym buddies, getting wrapped up in a random cause, or finding themselves in some ridiculous viral challenge. I’d laugh it off, the kind of laugh that says, "I’m not that person."

Then, one day, I blinked—just once, maybe twice—and suddenly, there I was. Deep in the middle of it, the very thing I thought I’d never be part of. 

I was sitting in a sweaty gym, struggling to follow a workout routine that I never imagined would have me questioning my life choices. It wasn’t a cult, but it felt close enough. And her? Well, she walked into my life like a plot twist, like the universe laughing at my earlier convictions. I wasn’t looking for it—her—but there I was, headfirst, knee-deep, and honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Moon Walk

 

I was waiting to be picked up by my driver in front of the classroom when you said hi. “Still here?” you asked.

I nodded. “My driver should have arrived 2-3 hours ago. I wonder if something happened”.

You grinned. I wasn’t sure—but it felt like I was being looked down upon.

I pretended not to notice your tease.

“Want to walk home together?” You said.

“Walk?” I answered—puzzled.

“Yeah. You don’t live too far from here, right? I’ll walk you home.”

.

So we walked for 45 minutes.

No conversation.

Only scorching sunlight and the pungent smell of vehicle fumes.

.

I was drenched with sweat by the time we reached the front gate of my house.

I turned to you, “Thanks for walking me home.”

“Ring your doorbell. I’ll wait until you’re inside.”

Arabica

Everybody have their own favorite memory from their first love. Mine would probably be my first kiss.
I’m not sure if I can even call it a kiss. It was more like a peck. One that made me blush every time I remember.
.
I always knew I wouldn’t end up with him. I always knew our relationship was temporary and would eventually end, because that’s just how most first loves are. However, I was so deeply invested that I didn’t really care about the ending— I just enjoyed every moments while it last.
.
It might not make much sense, but my first love wasn’t my first boyfriend. I was quite popular back then, so I changed boyfriends like they’re plastic bags. I changed boyfriends so often, yet I never let anyone stole my first kiss. I always wanted it to be with someone special.  Because? Because I valued myself highly. I knew it should be an honor to be my first love and have my first kiss.
He was probably the second boyfriend I had that year. The longest relationship I had in my adolescence. 10 memorable months. 
.
So, where were we? Ah! First kiss!
We were on a picnic date. It was a beautiful day in a beautiful park. The sky was blue with white pretty clouds here and there. The grass smelled amazing. He looked dazzling. He dressed like a McDreamy— you know, the kind of style  you’d imagine  from a lead male character in a romance novel.

We were talking about the future. What would it feel like to be college kids. What would we want to do 10 years from now. Just the usual talk, nothing special. 
I was looking at him as he explained lengthy about his favorite music. His side profile was mesmerizing. His eyes were bright and pure.
Suddenly, he turned his head to me. He smiled and asked, “Do I have ketchup on my face?”
I shook my head, then I went for a peck. Lips to lips. 3 seconds. That’s it.


(Writer’s note : Inspired by IU ‘Through The Night’)

Red Queen

"What's there to stress about? You already have a huge salary!" She said. As if money is the only thing I need to be happy. As if I need to have a bigger, more grandeur, reason to feel sad.
.
"Why can't you be more spirited?" She said. As if I haven't tried hard enough. As if I spend my day lazily. Recklessly.
.
All I ever wanted was someone to tell me I was enough. That I did great. Or at least good enough.
All I ever wanted was someone to acknowledge that I've put my best effort. Someone to say that I could enjoy whatever I wanted to do.
.
I told them I was tired. But no one listened.
I told them I was sad. They thought I faked it.
I held out my hand. No one ever reached back.
.
So here I am. Slowly gone as the siren wails.

Sorrow

The weather is colder than what she packed for.

She looks out and feels like she can touch the snow falling out of her window.

Winter is cold. But the sharp pain in her chest is much colder.

She never knew that she could feel such tremendous pain. She never expected that she would meet such excruciating depression.
The feeling of longing for acknowledgement.
The profound void of loneliness.
The constant struggle and sadness.
The hate that scarred her.
Even after she seeked help. Even after she talked to someone. Even when she was showered with love.
She feels like no one would ever understand. She knows that the dark clouds won't ever go away. And even when they say they love her... she can't believe them. She can't feel their love.
She feels numb, yet she can feel the throbbing pain.


The people she thought would give her comfort... those she thought she could rely on... those she thought would give her strength.. are also those who tortured her... are also those who demand so much from her... are also those who expected too much from her.
They expected perfection. They expected fortitude. And understanding. And patient. And unconditional love.
But they wouldn't do the same for her.
All they do was talk.
Even when she told them she was in pain. They shrugged her off.  They belittle her. As if she needed a more dramatic reason to be in pain.


"Will anyone cry for me when I'm gone? Will anyone miss me? Will my death mean something to someone or anything at all? Will they finally realise that I exist? Will they finally acknowledge how hard I've worked? Will they finally know how much pain they've caused me? Their sharp words... Their unfair judgement... Their hate...."

She thinks to herself over and over again.

She closes her eyes and hugs herself. "You're good enough. What you did was good enough. You've done well."
She puts herself to sleep.

Promise Her The Moon #4 -END

Palette - end
8 Months after her wedding...
.
She walks into her favorite chocolatier with her hopes up. She can imagine his favorite opera cake sitting on their small dining table. She can picture how his perfect teeth would turn brown, so that she can clean it up with millions of kisses. Slow kisses. Sexy kisses.

" Hi!" called a familiar voice. He tapped her shoulder rythmically.
She spontantly blanks out.
"Can't believe we meet here!" He continues with that misleading tone and ambiguous smile of his.
She can't gather her minds. She just gawks with her mouth open.
"Sorry I couldn't come to your wedding. I was just..." He stops.
Not finishing his sentences is just his specialty. He seemed to love doing it, so that the other person could fill in the gap and misunderstood completely. At least, that's what she assumed.

"Ah.. no problem.." she is finally able to answer after she regains her consciousness, "How are you doing?" she continues.
"Not okay," He laughs awkwardly.
"What happened?" She asks--- only out of courtesy.
"You happened, " He answers with a one-sided smirk. "You left me and got married", he says.
"Wh-WHAT??" She can not hide how surprise she is hearing that nonsense.
"Just kidding," he laughs again. "I'm getting married", he continues abritrary.
Well that escalated quickly, didn't it? She whispers to herself.

She contemplates a bit about how she should respond. She naturally feels that she needs closure with this guy. She hates not having everything out in the open. She also hates playing games like this. They might never see each other anymore, so what is there to lose to talk and discuss about what happened in the past? She is already married, and he is getting married anyway. So.... it's a win-win,  really.... at least for her.

"Let's sit a bit and chat," she tells him.
Surprisingly, he agrees.
.
They sit in the outermost table near the door looking out to the shop's veranda.
"How is married life?" he opens the conversation.
"Lovely actually, much better than I expected," she answers honestly.
"What did you expect, really?" he replies.
You're not the one who is supposed to be asking questions here, she thinks to herself.
"Well.. like you probably has figured out.. At that time, I expect YOU would do something... so I never thought I would end up marrying my hubby. But, thanks to you I have a perfect husband, " she answers cynically. And she follows through with a plain laugh.
He looks a bit startled. "I know," he said.

He knows and he did all that push-and-pull thing with me. He knows, and yet he never, not even once, tried to settle things with me, she thinks angrily.

"I was about to ask you out, but then I changed my mind... You're too good of a friend, and I wasn't ready to move on so I didn't want to hurt you," he continues,

She just scoffs because she cannot believe what she hears.
Well, you should at least tell me the situation. You should at least try and make everything clear. But no, you chose to keep me hanging. You chose to keep me as one of your spare. She almost blurts everything out, but she knows better. None of it is of any use.

"You know who I'm trying to move on from right? I told you everything about her. If not because of time, I would probably couldn't even propose to my current fiancee. Even until now I still remember her. She left me with a deep scar and it's not easy to get out of that scar. I was trying to move closer to you, but then I didn't. And then you got married and I thought I should probably got married too. And so my friend introduced me to a girl, and I took a leap of faith. I told myself I'd just see where things go. And so we dated a few months. Then, I am where I am," he said.

What a douche, she smirks unconsciously.

"Well.. there's no use talking about it now. We're both heading to our own happy marriage. At least I know I am. And I hope you would too," she tells him. She gets out of her chair, purchase her opera cake, and wave him goodbye. Forever,
.
On her way home, she just feels so glad that everything with him is over. She is relieved that she picked her husband over that man.
If I married him, then I would probably be just like his fiancee.. An alternative of another woman. A back up plan. She feels sorry for the girl. She can't imagine getting into a marriage with that mindset-- not fully loving your spouse.
At least I know that he views a marriage only as a status. He married someone he is not in love with. He married someone because it is time to get married. I can't imagine being married to that kind of man. I can't imagine committing to someone without giving all my heart for them. I can't imagine having loose ends like that and decide to marry a girl. Isn't that too cruel? What does he think of his wife? A trophy? she mumbles.
But then that's it. She has nothing to do with him anymore. She is fine. She is married to a loving and honorable man. She is in love and her heart is throbbing with excitement. She is glad. She has completed her painting and she has thrown away the palette.

THE END.

Promise Her The Moon #3

Chasing Pavement 2/2

14th April 2013, just some other night after her shift in the ER. On her way home...

She is currently stuck in traffic. Along with, like, hundreds other cars. It has been 2 hours but the traffic hasn't shown any sign of getting better. Her car only move inch by inch, and she is sure that walking will get her home faster than driving.
Argh! What the hell happened?!!! She snorts, looking away to her side window. A couple is in a car next to hers, and they're acting all lovey-dovey.
What are you?! Teenager or something?! She snorts again at the sight of them kissing.

Her phone rings. A phone call from her fiancee. "Good timing!" she says as she picks up the phone.
"Are you home? I heard there's a terrible traffic near the hospital," he says.
She puts him on speaker and turns down the radio, "Noooo!!!" she replies childishly.
He laughs, "So are you stuck in traffic?" He asks.
"Yep! And some teenager in the car next to me is making out!" she replies even more childishly.
"Ah.. my poor fiancee.. I wish I was there so we could show them how to make out. Properly. Like an adult," he says mischievously.
"Meh.. I'm hanging up.." she answers as if she hates it, but she would like it, really.
They giggle.
"Okay, then. Drive safe. And text me when you're home," he says, then quickly adds "I love you!"
She blushes, "I love you more.." she replies softly.

I can't believe I broke up with him! She says to herself with a smile from ear to ear and a pinkish cheek.

A lot has happened since their date on her birthday. Life changing memories-- at least for her. She realized a lot of things. Things which, in their 5 years history, never crossed her mind.

After that day, they went on several more dates, and she fell in love with him once more. All over again.

She's not exactly sure when it all started. Just... at some point, she realized that her heart started racing whenever they hold hands.. and her cheek started to blush whenever he looked at her a certain way.
Then, one day, on their date to the beach near his home, she just said "I love you" unconsciously. And he smiled at her so warmly that it melted her heart. And... they kissed. Soft and slowly. As if it was their first and last kiss. As if the world stood still and the time paused. As if his lips wouldn't turned orange and his peppermint-scent would forever be hers. And, as if she wouldn't faint if her heart rates went even higher.

She holds her warm rosy cheeks as their kiss comes to her memory in a flash. She grabs her phone again, browses through her gallery, trying to distract her own brain.
'So, this is how it feels like to have a fiancee and plan your own wedding. I am forever grateful and happy' she writes on her Instagram along with a picture of her engagement ring.

I am such a brag! She amuses herself on the thought of her jealous friends and families.

She continues to drive carefully among this terrible traffic jam. She pulls her hand break on and off because her feet starts to feel tired and she grows even more sleepy.

Why did I break up with him? Is he always this handsome, and sweet, and kind, and just amazing! A random thought suddenly crosses her mind.

How come I never noticed how sweet he is before? We dated for 5 years for f* sake! She lectures herself about how dumb she was. And how ungrateful she was.

She remembers how, after she accepted his proposal, he said thankyou  for, like, a thousand times.
And she remembers how, after their kiss on the beach near his home, he pulled something out of his inside pocket. A ring.
"I have been keeping this for a long time," he said.
She then asked why. "Because I was affraid," he answered. And she then asked another question, "affraid of what?"
She remembers how he paused for a long time, just staring at her eyes with his left arm hugging her hips. "I'm affraid.. that if I propose to you again.. like officially propose.. with roses and a ring.. i'm affraid that you will run away--that you will change your mind," he replied.
She remembers laughing, but her heart was aching, and then she said, "Don't be silly!"

The night grows deeper and the traffic has gotten a lot better.
Ah! I feel exhausted. I just wanna go home and sleep... She pulls her hand break and massage her feet. Not long after, she finds a new notification on her Instagram. There's a comment on her recent picture. From him.

Her heart skips a beat.
Well, look who we have here. Ah -You. She can feel something chokes her throat on the thought of him.
What the... why now? She scratches her hair back and forth. Trying to calm her heart because her memories about him thundered in her mind, drowning her once more.
Should I open it? She hesitates.

She decides to open the comment and finds out what it says. 'I am so happy for you. Happy, yet sad at the same time,' he wrote.

W-What? Her pupils widened as she can not believe what she just read. That last sentence. She wonders what he meant by 'sad'.

She remembers a month ago, when she finally log on to Facebook after a long time to post her wedding invitation, she found his weird status on her home screen.
'I wish I could be your journey's end' it said. Dated just a few hours back.

She stares and stares at the Instagram comment for quiet some time.
Oh my god! She groans. You're still good at playing me, aren't you?! She groans again.

She wonders whether his Facebook status and Instagram comment might actually mean he has (or had) feelings for her. And she wonders whether she is, finally, breaking his heart.
Oh my god! She shrieks her heart out. Come on! What are your intentions, really!!! She shrieks again.

The night gets even more deeper and darker. And the traffic starts to unravel.
No! She says firmly.

I am not that girl anymore! I am not the one who will be swayed by you! She convinces herself.

What you feel. Or write. Doesn't matter to me anymore. She says it with confident.

I am too good for you. And you are no good for me. You do not deserve me! She is resolute and decisive.

I am getting married. And I moved on.

To be Continue...

Promise Her The Moon #2

Chasing Pavement* 1/2

11 November 2012, her birthday...


Her phone hasn't stop beeping since morning. A lot of people send their prayers and congratulations. A lot of people, but him.

What am I expecting? He never remembers.. She mumbles weakly.
She looks down upon her hands. Nothing is there. Nothing but emptiness and disappointment.

"I need to go to the bathroom," she says to the other guy- another him in her life. The one that proposed.
That guy asked her out for a date today. She didn't really want to go, but she didn't really have other plan, so...

"You went before, " he says. "Am I making you uncomfortable? Should we just go home?" he asks her. His face looks a bit sad, so she feels sorry for him, "I'm really trying so hard to not take too much of your time.." he continues. Talking so softly that she almost cannot hear him.

"No.. it's okay.." she answers halfheartedly.

He scratches his long wavy hair out of frustration.
"I know that you've grown out of love for me. I know that," he stops for a second, "but, I can't help and be sad because you haven't answer my proposal.." he looks at her in the eye. He sounds so helpless. Miserable. And it makes her feel even more guilty. "It's been two months," he murmurs to himself.

She looks back at him and wonders, Why can't I love him? We dated for 5 years.. Have I really grown out of love for him? She sighs.

Truthfully, this other guy looks okay. He is tall. Handsome. He has beautiful brown eyes. Kind. Understanding. And he seems like he is head over heel in love with her. So, she finds it strange that she spends most of her heart on a guy like him over this guy. A guy that never remembers her birthday and never seems to try... compared to this nice soft-hearted man, him is awful.

"Why do you like me so much?" She asks him out of curiosity. "You've spent 5 years dating me so you must've known already who I really am. I've told you my story, right? What happened to me in my childhood.. and what happened now... I'm not normal, you know.." She says.

He lowers his head. "Do you remember the first time we met?" he asks.
She answers him with a nod.
"I still remember it so clearly. As if it is not a memory.. As if it was yesterday," he says. "That day, you were surrounded by so many people, yet you stood out the most. You shone so much that I, unconsciously, drawn into you, " he paused with a somewhat bitter smile. "Five years and I know your stories? Yeah, that is true. And it's true it bothered me so much at first. But.. not because I thought of it as your flaw. Instead, I was just sad because I couldn't help you back then.. If only we met sooner, if only I was there.. I wouldn't let anyone touch you," he ended his sentence with a smirk.

She looks at his deep brown eyes. Somehow, it feels warm. And somehow, she wants to believe everything he just said.

"I know everything about you, y'know? Even the things you don't know about yourself.." he continues, "I know you like soft but bold colors, but you hate pastel," he giggles."I know your eyebrows have this weird shape when you lied. And you draw random doodles when you're anxious. And you drink a lot of bottled water, especially when you're sad.." he says.
"I know that you wanted to play piano again, but it reminded you about your father so much, and it made you sad, so you just let it go..." he moves his hand towards hers. She flinches.
"I know that you love the curve of your shoulder, and that is why you love wearing certain types of clothes.. And I know that you hate your forehead, but I think it's beautiful" he continues. "I can go on and on if you let me," he sighs.

Why are you so in love with me? Why can't he fall in love with me this way instead? She thinks to herself.

"I know you know it's the truth.." he says while giggling with his eye-smile. "I am madly in love with you, y'know?"
She answers with a sneer.
"Can't you try and love me again?," he asked. "I promise you, I'll make you happy. I won't ask anything from you. Really! You can do whatever you want, and just give me a chance to take care of you. I won't ask you to do anything you don't want to. So please... can't you at least try?" He sounds so pitiful, almost like he is begging.


She can feel that her heart starts to waver. Vacillate.
If only you were loving me like this.. If only you were trying to come after me like this... then my heart wouldn't be this broken, would it?
Or at least chase me! Tell me to be with you! Make me refuse his proposal!
You know I would run to you without thinking.
She says it silently,  deep in her heart-wishing him will, somehow, hear her telepathically.

"Honey.. I promise you'll be happier living with a man who loves you..more than than the man you love," he says, breaking the silence.

She lets out a deep sigh. What have I done in my life to deserve this kind of love?
She looks at his deep brown eyes once again. This kind of man seems to only come once in a lifetime, doesn't it?
She closes her eyes in tears. Perhaps, it's time for me to made up my mind.

"Will you really do that?" She asks him. A tear welled in the corner of her eyes.
He looks puzzled "W-what?"
"Make me happy and take care of me?" She answers.
"You're so precious to me.. so.. of course!" he says.

Well, I guess it's time to stop chasing pavement.


To be continue..

*Reference to Adele's  song intended

Promise Her The Moon #1

 PREVIEW 
Her : "Hi! You there?"
Him : "Yep! How are you?"
Her : "I'm good. Are you busy? Can we talk?"
Him : "I'm cooking dinner. But we can talk"
Her : "Somebody propose to me.."
Him : "..."
Her : "Are you eating now?"
Him : "Yeah..."
Him : "So, will you accept his proposal?"
Her : "I don't know yet. Should I?"
Him : "..."
Him : "Well, congratulation..."

===================================

PROLOG
  
During her shift in a drizzling September night 2012....

She looks at the ceiling with a blank stare. It is a very tiring night shift. Even though she is not the only doctors in charge, somehow she still feels exhausted. Drained.
Her partners are already asleep. She thinks they must've been exhausted also. There aren't that many patients that night. But, still.. a shift in the ER never fails to suck all your energy.

She reaches for her cell phone. A little disappointed because there isn't any message from anyone. From him, especially.

Should I just text him first? She asks herself.
But..., she hesitates. She doesn't want to show him how desperate she is about him, and at the same time, it's hard to resist the temptations.
I've been avoiding that other guy for a week now. Soon, of course he will be impatient. It's about time I give him my answer..., She groans because she feels frustrated. Suffocated. She wonders why he has not been texting her.

It's not that he is obligated to text me.. But..  She groans again.
We're just friends. He doesn't need to text me if he has nothing to ask me about. She tries to put some sense into her heart, but an ominous feeling suddenly surrounds her.

She lets out a deep sigh. She feels bitter thinking about him. She feels stupid and sad at the same time. He makes her feels like a beggar all the time. He gives her a hard time reading his intentions. He gives her hopes, yet he never really gives her hopes. It's too complicated!

She looks at her phone again. Should I just text him? It's not like I'm trying to make him jealous or anything... It's just, we're friends.. So I'm just going to tell my friend what had happened in my life. She convinces herself.

After she finally finds an excuse, she musters up her courage and texts him first. It's the first time they contact each other after so long.

She glances at her watch. It's 11 PM. She hopes he's still awake

Her : "Hi! You there?"

She sends it. Then, directly regrets it.  And she waits anxiously for his answer.

Him : "Yep! How are you?"
Her : "I'm good. Are you busy now? Can we talk?"
Him : "I'm cooking dinner. But, we can talk..."
Her : "Can I ask you something strange? What are we, actually? How do you feel about me? About us?? Aren't you tired playing me? Aren't you bored already?! " She types it, but soon deletes it.
Her : "Do you remember my previous ex-boyfriend? The long term one.. you know, the one I dated for 5 years?" She sends this instead.

He doesn't answer directly. There is a five minutes gap. He must be busy cooking, she thinks to herself.

Him : " Yeah.. what about him?"
She hesitates a bit. Should I really tell him? Or... Should I just figure everything out myself?
Her : "..."
Him : "You still there? What are you doing now? Aren't you in the hospital?"

She feels a bit relieved that he changes the topic. Her : "Yeah. Still on duty. No patients at the moment, tho.."
Him : "So? What about that ex-boyfriend?"

She is a little surprised that he brings that up again because she thought he didn't want to talk about it. Apparently, he do want to talk about it.
So she mutters nonsense, then decides to tell him. Argh! Whatever, she says to herself.
Her : "He proposed last week"

He doesn't answer for a long time. There is a long pause. Almost half an hour.

Is he eating now? She tries not to get her hopes up.
I mean... It's not like he will be jealous or shocked, right?
It's not like we're in a relationship or something!
He must've figured out by now..the fact that I like him.. But, it's not like he ever treated me special or anything.
It's not like I mean something to him, right?
He never remembers my birthday, so...
It can't be that I actually mean something, right?
A lot of thoughts crosses her mind. She feels like... this is it.. After this, she will finally decide... After this, she will know what to do. Whether she will keep going.. or she will, finally, let him go and move on.


Her : "Are you eating now?"
Him : "Yeah.."
Another pause.
Him : "So? What are you gonna do with him?"
Her : "I don't know yet... I'm confused.. Should I accept?"

He pauses for a long time again. Come on! Don't get my hopes high!! Don't make me feel as if I actually mean something to you! Why are you playing with my heart?!! She groans while kicking her feet in the air. He confuses me. All the time.

Him : "Well, congratulation..."


Congratulation? She murmurs to herself. She looks at her screen with a choke on her throat. She feels dizzy and there is a sharp pain somewhere she cannot explain. How come two words could shatter her hearts into aladeen pieces?

"Excuse me, doctor. There is a patient outside!" one of the nurse knocks on the door.

Ah... shit.. I guess, this is it, then.


To be continue...