I stare at myself on the mirror, wondering where did it go wrong, what did I do wrong to deserve all of this misery. I'm seeking for the person that I once knew, the person that I learned to love, the person that she adores the most, only to find myself looking at the most helpless human being ever existed.
No complain as she picked all the shattered pieces of me as I build myself back up. I was broken beyond repair yet she stayed. She was patient, she was careful. She was there. She stayed on my better days and worst days. She was all I needed, everything I could hope for.
She was my last hope.
The day she left me was the day I began to hate rainy days. I liked rainy days. I liked how I romanticize everything that happens when it rains.
“I'm here, please come back,“ I mumbled, staring at my reflection as it begins to blur, confused why do I have to suffer this way. “I'll wait for you, I will always be right where you left me.”
It was she, the first one that took my hand and the last one who held it.