Where are you? I was holding the phone again, expecting for something. Even the gods of the high heavens could tell I was delusional. The thing I am asking for is nearly impossible. Wind danced with the curtains of my room. All I wanted was to hear you. Even if it was only your breath, even that mere thing would do, for there is assurance that you are there. When did this start? I don’t know. I was lost in time. I am stuck in a vortex, unable to move. Here I am, sitting idly on my chair waiting for a single thing that assures me that you’re there— but none. I wonder how you’re doing. Are you okay? Those questions always go unanswered. Back in those days, there was so much I wanted to say. Like the way you tuck your long raven hair behind your ear. I asked you why you kept your hair like that and you simply shrugged and told me you do not know either. I wanted to ask why you didn’t know it but I let it drop so we could see the setting sun, azure waters, and blood orange skies. Memories are happy, but sometimes it leads to pain. Your presence used to fill the void in me. Just sitting with me was enough long ago. I don’t need talking or doing something when I am with you. Just your mere presence is enough. Where are you? If I had the chance I would search the world just to catch a glimpse of your smiling face. Without knowing, I gripped the phone tighter and forced a smile. No, I am not going to let the constricting pain in my throat win this time. I am strong, strong enough to carry on. I took a long breath and unknowingly, the tears betrayed me. This is bad. For days I have kept up my façade. I remembered you again. You were the only one who could see behind these. I gripped the phone even tighter until my knuckles became white. An unknown forced laugh was reverberating inside my room. Then I realized it was me. I threw the phone on the floor and my body came after. Though this time the laughs died and were replaced by choked sobbing. It was painful. To have these things bottled up inside of you, to have the only person you want to say it to, gone—it was too much. Pathetically, I gripped the carpet and saline water flowed more than ever. Why must you leave me? All those days, weeks, year, and memories have been for naught. Why must you flash me that smile, when you knew all along that you were going to leave? All these unnecessary questions would not exist if only, if only, you didn’t leave. Then and there I realized I am not strong. Your presence still lingers in my room, the book you borrowed, at the chair you used to sit on, and lastly, you presence still lingers—on me and in my heart.