Literary (Submission): Five Hours
The second I caught a glimpse of your alluring visage, I assured myself that I cannot let you go. I may sound melodramatic but the longer the time I spent with you, the more urgent that I needed to confess to you.
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7 pm. I opened the door and rapidly looked for you. Your beauty outshined all those inside the same room. I went near you and you beamed at me. The ice was instantly broken.
8 pm. We kept each other company. You cracked jokes just like how you would on a normal day. And after each of your puns, I shrieked with laughter to show you that I am truly one supportive friend. Though the term “friend” kind of felt degrading because the two of us shared a phenomenal spark. And it is appropriate to describe our spark that way for everyone knows about “us”- about how we click and how we are our own “clique”. Everyone else knows but you.
9 pm. I wanted to let you know. But your jokes and stories made the scene less serious. Yes, I love it how you turn an anxious conversation into one that’s laidback. But I am now ready to step out of my comfort zone to tell you how I feel. How I wish that you would step out as well-that you would be more austere about us. Because carrying all the load makes it so much worse.
10 pm. How selfish of me to think that I am the only one struggling. I wanted to resume my moment with you but the people in gowns took you away from me. On the plus side, I was able to rethink my speech for you. After incorporating all the words in my head, I have decided to just tell you that this night does not change the way I cherish you. I didn’t want to startle you for your Mother was outside waiting as well.
11 pm. I could not take the delay any longer; I was in the brink of my tranquility. I ran to you and started to preach my feelings to you. But you weren’t listening. You weren’t because you simply can’t. Your mother was with us and she was holding your hand. I wanted to hold your other hand but the force might cause you more pain. I was wrong about carrying all the load; I was nonchalant compared to you. How stupid of a weakling like me.
12 am. Your heart stopped beating. So did mine, metaphorically that is. My speech for you won’t be heard until the day they bury you. Everyone who knows about our magical connection, including your mother, will get to hear it. Surely, my message for you might change the way how people see me; I don’t care. But I swear to you that my love for you will never change because from the first hour of your last day, from the first time we became friends, from the first time I got to know you, I already loved you as if you were my life. But you can’t be called my life anymore since- well let’s face it- you lost your life. Please take mine with you. / by Promenade
