I haven't heard from him for months. I've spent weeks crying, searching, apologising to the wind:
"It was just a kiss." But the wind didn't respond, as if to say: So were all the other we shared?
My fault, that's what this was. And you know all the stories and songs and stuff, were they always have an excuse? He hurt me, this one made me, he cheated, not. my. fault. … well I realised the only one who actually hurt me is myself. In the end we are the real reasons for the crumpling of our happiness.
It was December when I knew what to do. The 22nd was a dark night with a lot of clouds. Cold, yes. Snowy, no. The rain started falling on the people of the ball, soaking everyone, so it was over quickly and I waited.
Now I'm standing here watching him, wondering: what's going on in that head… how does he think? He came, but couldn't look at me at all, didn't dare glance. The air between us is still, silent. I can't bare it.
I'm feeling my heart beat, my pulse rise.
Is she insane? She's actually hear. Or am I the one going crazy? It hurt worse than I imagined. Seeing her is one of the hardest things I've ever done. So I'm not looking. Just staring at the ground. I felt something strange, a scratch at my bare ankles. It is a leaf. Making its way towards her. I'm looking up. Hundreds and hundreds of other leaves are flying to her. Soon a storm of fiery colours is swirling around her. I'm feeling my own flurry rise. A never-ending storm. My eyes stung. I'm looking up and through it all catching her stare. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, her hair wildly flying around her face… there was one think I can make out of this short connection:
Please…
The End