For months, I searched for you in every face I met, hoping to hear a voice call my name in the sea of crowd. I visited your town one last time. I needed to be sure. It felt like a ghost town, eerily quiet. I don’t remember the scent of your perfume. I can no longer recognise your voice inside my head. You have become a distorted image, familiar yet unrecognisable.
The only thing I remember is your favourite colour blue and how much you despised the color yellow, and you in that red t-shirt.
I couldn’t bring myself to delete you because doing so felt like losing a part of myself. Your words used to be my favourite comfort, my playful space, where everything felt real. Thus, I changed your details and moved everything to archive.
“Pluto’s Last Comet”
I wish you happiness. May you settle with someone beautiful, kind, confident, and not afraid to walk beside you. I hope you win in life as you deserve. Dreams aren’t always meant to be broken. It is to be pursued and fought for, through the darkness and in the light.
***
I didn’t win in this story.