The story of us was not the kind of story that would get the interest of the world. Say, it was quite sad but more of horrible. Who would want to read this anyway? I cried. You cried. And everyone laughed at it, like what happened between us was the funniest tragedy.
I woke up one morning, realized that it's been raining the whole terrible week. I got outside my house, went for a walk when the sun finally found its place to appear. Everything around me looked so alive and green. I went to the park, where thousands of memories of us reside. I released a very deep sigh. My chest felt so heavy, but mind you, I couldn't cry anymore. Maybe I've run out of tears already.
Anyway, the entire morning did not end there. I tried to go to places where I wouldn't feel lonely. Two hours of roaming around the city, it occured to me the last place I had you in my own grasp. It was a bit silly. I wanted to relax and enjoy the calmness of the people that passed me by, the noises of the city that did not stop singing even when I was becoming a tired guy who didn't know what was ahead of him. I wanted to just recognize the chances I could possibly have in eliminating the stirring emotions which chained me for a whole depressing month, but still, it was as though I was left with only one option -- I chose to visit you in 'that' church.
'That' church where it was supposed to be the way to our happy life in unison. You and I. As one. I smiled at the thought. I remember how elated you looked with your silvery gown, as your pace towards me in front of the altar started in slow motion, and the gap, which was the surface, that hindered between us in minutes became a space that could be wandered in only seconds, and finally, I catched you by the arm. We walked hand in hand, and I wanted so much to kiss you on your lips before we even speak our 'I dos.' And yet, patience taught me to wait, afterall, we were meant for that.
Remember also when I told you that no one could ever stop us from becoming one? I think you do. But of course, I want you to always look back in our good memories. It's what matters the most. You knew, I mean, everyone knew that it was not a good memory at all because that promise was eventually broken. Someone shot me from the back, a guy with a gun. And two seconds away was the second bang, and I saw you in a pool of blood. I reached out to you as we both tried to survive from our deaths. The floor was a shock -- we were swimming in bloods. The people were screaming. I heared someone shouting to call the police.
The church became a place of murder. What was worst of all, I didn't get to see you right away. When I woke up from that deadly hospital, which was, as they said, two weeks later since that horrible incident took place, I immediately asked where you could be. Of course, everyone reading this might have already predicted the obvious -- she was dead. Which was true. The people I wanted to get an answer from only replied me with a dreadful silence. I then knew exactly what that meant. Your funeral was the last chance I had had in seeing you for the last time, although I was restricted to get out from where I was confined in. Then soon afterwards, it was revealed who the hell was responsible for the cruelty done to us. It was your ex-boyfriend who couldn't get over you.
And you know what? I wanted to kill him and wanted to smash anyone's face whoever the fu*k was on his side that laughed their ass off so crazily. But I did dream of you. It's what you exactly said, "Don't do anything that can harm you. I love you."
Why couldn't I? Why shouldn't I? Sleepless nights had visited me, and it was a question that was never ever answered. You did not appear in my dreams again no matter how much I prayed to the gods for that. It made me bitter in life. And now I'm old. That unfortunate instance happened some twenty years ago. I'm fifty-five years old now. It's funny why it still bothers me. Maybe because you made so much in my life, beautiful ones, that it's very hard to recover even after all the years I've been through.
Well, how are you by the way? I just missed you so terribly. So, I decided to just go back home right after I entered 'that' church. It just saddened me the fact that you were no longer to be seen, and if only there was a chance in finally seeing you, touching you, or kissing you, I would have done the easiest ways long time ago. You know what I mean about the easiest ways? Like, stranggle myself on a rope, get overdozed by drugs, drown my body to the hungry waters of the bath tab. There a lot of ways actually. And I've done almost all the ways.
It's just that you always reminded me to not do anything. Why was that? I couldn't wait to finally see you. Upon the excitement of having a sight of you, I walked towards the middle of the highway, where cars were passing me by. What the fu*k was going on? Every car I could see would halt to a stop when they got to start seeing me standing in their ways. Most of the drivers got pissed off, and I only formed my lips to an 'O.'
"You better be dead right now, old man!" Shouted the red head guy.
I didn't react to that. I wouldn't be sorry at all. But wait! It was already dark all over the city but my eyes still could see people's faces. I was not expecting to see you, my love, inside the car of that asshole.
"Why?" I muttered.
The red head guy got out from the car, turned to me, and hit me with his bare fist! I passed out for like seconds and suddenly, you were right infront of me, my love. You were crying your eyes out, asking that asshole to calm down. To stop hurting me. You looked so young, and I remember once again the good old days.
"Please, let him alone. I'll be married with you, I promise, just don't let him suffer," you pleaded, tears overflowing. But that asshole just slapped you! I couldn't let that happen. It didn't matter if I'd be dead. I immediately got up, felt a silver lining ahead of us, and hit the asshole in the face nonstop, until he let out a blood-curdling scream.
After the torture, we held hands. We ran the whole city. We hid. We cried. And we laughed at the end of the night. I was thinking, at the moment, that someday, I'd share this story of us to the whole wide world.
I just love you so much to the bottom of the sea.
When it was morning I woke up from a hospital bed. I didn't know how I ended up being hospitalized. Yesterday, I was just walking at the park and visiting 'that' church, and now I was here. The nurse who was on duty did glance at me with a shake on her head, stared with disappointment, as though I have done something that was frustratingly wrong. So I looked out the window. It rained again.