A sunset in summer is orange. It dyes everything into the same color, and it's as if the world was that soft golden color.
All, except for me.
Even though it's sunset, it didn't feel the least bit chilly. A few flower petals were blown away by the gentle breeze, touching past me as I sat on the swing, in a deserted playground.
Everyone has probably gone home for dinner. Meanwhile, I'm unable to bring myself to go home.
It's been...what? Four, five years? The memory feels dull, because it has been untouched for so long. I can barely remember why I am grieving.
I sigh a soft breath. Along with the sigh comes a feeling of nostalgia.
This is why I sigh a lot. It feels like it is the only thing I remember of something that I forgot.
I sat on the park swing for the longest time, listening to the rustle of leaves and flower petals flying by.
Life has gotten tiring. I don't know why I am sad. Living...just doesn't seem worth anything anymore.