The most pathetic thing was that I muttered all the words to myself, even though they were meant for you. The question of how long have I had feelings for you, was probably something that could never be answered accurately. But one thing for sure was that it all began soon after I started to exist. Ever since I realized my ridiculous infatuation for you, the affection never ceased to grow. Instead, it rooted itself deeper within me so that it would only hurt me if I tried to haul it away. Unbeknownst to you, I drowned, I smoldered, I floated, and I sank every day because of it. Even so, every time I saw you smile, I told myself that 'what it is, is what it is,' and surprisingly, I was able to live with that. From there it was back to square one.
And then I'd repeat the whole process again.
I was actually surprised too. Despite such a coward I was, I never let go of these feelings for you. I also knew, though, that it wouldn't mean a thing unless I didn't let them go and hand them to you. I knew that—more than anything else—but as I said earlier, as a coward without the guts to tell you how I felt, I ended up carrying all the feelings to myself like a burden for almost all eternity.
Yeah, "almost" all eternity. Because now this ludicrous solo-act of mine, seemed like it was slowly coming to an end.
The vison monitor began to show some blurs when Riley hit her seventies. Since then, everything started to go downhill. At least it was gradual, and that was a huge saving grace for Riley. Now, the image on the monitor was almost nothing but a blur. But with the usual sound of the bed springs and the familiar hazy color scheme on the screen, we could tell that Riley was in her bedroom, just waiting quietly for the day to end.
"Yep, another great day."
You said, looking longingly at the only handful of memories stored on the memory shelf.
The Headquarters used to be full of memories, but fewer and fewer started to roll in since Riley began to go down the hill. I remember till right before her puberty years, this place used to be glowing bright with happy memories. But as Headquarters slowly but gradually began to lose its light, you, too, started to grow dimmer—literally and figuratively—day by day.
And that absolutely terrified me.
If your glow was fading, then—maybe you—? Such thought crossed my mind, and that made my body tremble. The idea was just too horrifying that it made me nauseous and dizzy, but strangely, it never driven me into tears.
It was last Thanksgiving when you completely lost your glow.
It was supposed to be an ordinary fun-filled day. The Andersons finished their annual Thanksgiving dinner together, and Riley was ready to go to bed. Just when she happened to let out a tired sigh, your glow just—vanished.
I remember we were all stunned by this sudden, unexpected event. You, too, seemed to be shocked, as you looked down at your hands, and then at your whole body. But maybe you knew somewhere in your mind that this was going to happen. You didn't say anything about the matter.
Instead, with your usual smile fixed on the vison monitor, but with a feeble voice that sounded like you were bearing the most unbearable pain, you uttered,
"Riley."
Our beloved girl's name.
It hurt me.
It hurt me to see you hurting that it almost drove me insane. I wanted to blame everything on this pain, and pull you into a tight embrace. Maybe if I'd done that, it could've given you some kind of comfort. But even that may had been just a lame excuse for me to make sure you were still here; you were tangible, and certain that you weren't going anywhere. The fact that you lost your glow consequently meant that Riley was definitely going to finish walking down the hill in the near future. The closing end, the inevitable fate—although these thoughts heavily dawned on all of us, you quickly regained your spirit and prompted us to finish the day.
Ever since then, I was selfishly pained every time I saw you smile.
I knew this was nothing to be proud of, but I've always watched you, and I knew that there was a faint shadow behind every smile of yours now. On top of that, now I quietly wished aloud to myself that I could just wind back the clock and return back to those days when Riley was young and—happy. Even if we found a way to go back in time, I would probably still keep these feeling for you to myself, but at least your smiles would be cloudless; genuine.
But you.
Unlike me, you always dream of tomorrow. Today, you would hope for the best for our beloved girl.
We didn't know what was beyond the end of the hill, but apparently, that didn't bother you at all. Hoping for the best and taking care of our Riley was what we do. What we must do. And that was the truth; If there wasn't a way to travel back in time, then all we could do was to do what we can do, and move forward.
That's right, we can't go back anyway.
Riley closed her eyes.
She's fine.
She just went to sleep.
I saw you watching the black vison monitor intently. I reached my hand out to you unconsciously, and then stopped. Quietly, I pulled my quivering hand back and hid it behind me.
"Nice work, everybody," you said, and quickly went upstairs. Tomorrow will come soon enough. And tomorrow, we would give Riley another great day. Perhaps that's what you'd be hoping of as you go to sleep. No matter where we stood today, you would always be looking forward to tomorrow. So obviously, how could I be dreaming of being with you?
"…I promise I'll stop wishing about the past. And I guess that means I'd have to stop hoping for 'our' future, too."
Because from now on—for however long we had left—I, too, had to start looking forward to tomorrow.
