Maybe she was a best friend you once had, a promising date, a working colleague or just anyone whom you could click with. They just lose contact all of a sudden. Just like clouds, some gust of wind had blew them out of your life and you wonder, ‘Is it my fault?’ I never stopped pondering on this question whenever a friendship or a relationship does not work out, when he or she just drifts off and never came back. But I soon came to realize that it was nobody’s fault. Not mine, especially. Maybe they wanted someone popular, someone hot, gorgeous, someone who wasn’t you. Maybe, they just got too busy they decided that putting you out of their lives was the best decision. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. But no matter what it is, it isn’t my fault and to all the girls out there who wonder where he or she went, remember, it was never your fault in the first place. It was their choice, conscious or not. You are beautiful in your own way, amazing in your own thoughts and unique in your own body so never let anyone who leaves you tell you otherwise. Yes, they may find someone else, but they will never find you. You are a gem on your own, don’t wait for someone to polish you before you can sparkle. Polish yourself and sparkle, show them that even though you are no longer a frequent contact or someone who used to be on their minds all the time, you will make do without them. I remembered a friend telling me, ” You meet the good ones, you meet the bad ones, but along the way you learn to find the best ones.” indeed, you meet people who you have instant connections with which never last but you will learn to appreciate those who have connected with you and stayed. Friends or lovers, we will be glad we lost contact with those who couldn’t see us for who we truly are.
The cool waves lapped against the rocky shores and the chilly breeze caressed her petite frame, wrapping its arms around her. The sea seemed to reach the ends of the earth. Seagulls circled mindlessly in the cloudless blue sky, calling out incessantly. It seemed just like yesterday that everything happened. “Humans are crazy creatures! ” She remembered hearing her old political science professor exclaim. Indeed, she was and still is crazy; drunk in love and soon, seawater.
The idyllic backdrop was nowhere near the depiction of her feelings. He was her confusion, the stray thoughts during a lecture, the sudden outbursts of giggles and the abrupt pangs of sadness. The sun seemed to have disappeared even though its rays were burning her skin and toasting the sand that was burying her feet. She wondered if he was enjoying himself, if he actually remembered her and if he was hidden among the blanket of twinkling stars that filled the sky every night. Those memories weren’t memories after all. They don’t stay in her head. She could barely recall his face but her humane, raw heart had a longing so bad that it felt as if it was missing a big part of itself. Life, somehow, just wasn’t complete. It was him that was missing, but who? His face, his name and his voice had been eaten away by little hungry bugs nibbling on her brain cells. Time was her enemy and still is. Slowly and cautiously, she stepped into the clear waters that seemed to soothe her soul. She closed her eyes, laid down and let every essence of her body ebb away with the rhythm of the waves. She knew, for sure, he would be there to receive her with open arms. And she would instinctively know that it was her missing jigsaw puzzle piece.
The flashing red and white lights, sirens and policemen flashed past her eyes. She had received a grim-sounding phone call to rush down to Krankery Road. There it was, that familiar looking ruby BMW sports car. She swallowed her saliva and clenched her fist, pushing her way through the crowd with whimpers of ‘excuse me’. “No, it must be a mistake”, she repeated in her head, in a frantic attempt to calm those fears that drilled through her gut.
“Miss?” inquired a gruff voice.
Fragments of glass, policemen reeling the black and yellow “Do Not Cross” tape and an overturned car filled her vision. There was blood; fresh red blood trickling down the sides of the road, as red as his BMW sport car, LC 2805S. Passionate red was their favorite color, they had a common love for sport cars and he had specially bought a car plate license which had both their initials on it, the date sparks flew into romance and the initial of the country they met in. He was a pioneering businessman who dealed with sport cars distribution in the region and she was a woman who dreamed big about travels, philosophy and money. She would accompany him to his mundane golf and thrilling car racing sessions and willingly be that little woman who would stand meekly by his side, looking up to him as his charisma overflowed into her adoring heart. It reminded her why she loved him so much, why his eyes reminded her of the stars in the sky, the crescent moon plastered on his lips and his hair, fluffy night clouds floating in the serene night sky that complemented his cool, calm personality. This man, the love of her life, the man who would always be 8 years ahead of her, lay there with his eyes open,motionless and bloodied.
“Miss? Miss?” the voice was clearly irritated.
“Yes, I am.” she pried her eyes away from him and looked at the podgy policeman who was obviously disgusted by the scene and irritated that he had to work at such an unearthly hour, facing a bloodied corpse and an unresponsive woman.
“ You will have to follow us to the hospital to fill in some details and then to the police station for investigation. My condolences.”
“What do you mean by condolences? He is not dead! I saw him blink! I really saw him smile at me! He will stand up and prove to you that he’s alive and kicking! How dare you say he is dead! Stand up, dear, you never liked sleeping on streets so stand up please, I beg you, stand up! Stop lying there, you need to shower and wash off all that grime! Please, I beg you!” Anger quickly turned into delusion.
“ He’s gone. I’m sorry.”
The next few months were a living hell for her, she waited by her phone everyday, anticipating a call or a text that said, “ Hey baby, I’m back.” Silence was all she received. Endless hours of scrolling through their photographs and messages which contained their dreams, fears and hopes yet he never called or texted. She would walk aimlessly down places they had been to, sit at tables in cafes they patronized and in parks where they held hands and kissed. She missed those days where her heart was beating wildly and filled with boundless joy, when loneliness, sorrow and pain ceased to exist. Nights were no longer filled with snatching of blankets from each other and her ending up squirming up to him for some warmth and him wrapping her in his strong arms, his loud annoying snores that she hated most and him mumbling in his sleep to her about deadlines and reports, thinking that she was his employee. She would always chuckle at his furrowed bushy brows and peck him lovingly on his forehead. Amazingly, the mumbling would always be replaced by a smile and more irritating snores, making her wonder if he actually did that on purpose. Yet, she loved and still loves him for all his noisy and selfish ways.
“ I’m sorry, you only have 3 months left. There is nothing we can do about it.”
She hated the word, “sorry”. It always meant something bad, just like “my condolences”. These people would never understand that no matter how much apologies or condolences they offer, the pain would not disappear. These hypocritical words were useless to begin with, why would people say it if it was just for courtesy’s sake? To her, these words made her stomach squirm and her head would spin, spiraling her back to that bloody road where he lay, eyes open and motionless.
The cries of the seagulls were fading and the cool salty seawater filled every nook and cranny of her soul. Soon, the memories would come flowing back and there she would be, blissful in his arms among the stars in the calm night sky where their eyes would twinkle and their smiles in the crescent moon which would shine through the hearts of each pair of lovers in the world.