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The Way I Miss You -06-
|This is a story about Ada and her blog posts about the way she misses Railey, the love that she has lost...|
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Today, I found myself writing to you again. I would fold them into paper airplanes, wondering how I could send them all to you.
I don't dare to fly them out my window. Because I fear they wouldn't fly high enough to reach you up in the heavens. And I don't want to lose any piece of your memories.
And sometimes, I wish there is a post office in the heavens. Because everytime I miss you, I couldn't help but write to you. I couldn't help but write about you. And I couldn't help but wonder if you have a message for me, too.
I have so many things I wish to tell you, Rai. And I would like it if you could hear about them, too. Because I wish you'd also remember me the way I've been so busy missing you.
So I would write about you, because I don't want to forget the things you used to do. I don't want to forget how you used to call up just to wake me in the morning, because I couldn't wake up on my own alarm. How you would let your shoulder get drenched by the rain just to make sure that I stay dry. How you would purposely lose on rock-paper-scissors to let me choose what film to watch.
And I would write about you because I always want to remember you. To drown in the memories of you.
And I want to remember how you would slightly bend over just to hear me speak a little bit louder. How you would lightly hold my shoulder whenever we cross the street. How you would always give up the window seat when we ride the bus together. How you would always have a hairtie in your pocket just because I lose mine all the time.
And all the more, I woud miss you. Because you wouldn't be able to do those things for me anymore. But most of all, because I don't remember myself doing anything for you at all.
The list could go on and on and I would never tire of remembering all the things you used to do. And I would once again be gobbled up by that big warm blanket that was the memories of you.
Only these days, this blanket is becoming so heavy that sometimes it's getting hard to breathe.
How could you have died without letting me give something to you in return?
I wish I could have given you something precious. I wish I have made you smile the way you made my everyday so bright. I wish I have been your solace the way you have always been mine.
And though I haven't given you anything precious, I promise I will remember you. Because this time, it feels as if missing you is the only thing I could do to keep your memories alive.
So I will keep my letters to you, folded neatly in a box. And every time I miss you, I would read them one by one. And I would write about you everytime I miss you, because its the only thing I could do. Because to me, they have become a solace that keeps me from forgetting you.
But no matter how many times I fold them into paper airplanes, they could never fly high enough to reach you. And these letters are meaningless if I can't send them all to you.
© nabinara
《•》《•》《•》《•》《•》《•》《•》
Today, I found myself writing to you again. I would fold them into paper airplanes, wondering how I could send them all to you.
I don't dare to fly them out my window. Because I fear they wouldn't fly high enough to reach you up in the heavens. And I don't want to lose any piece of your memories.
And sometimes, I wish there is a post office in the heavens. Because everytime I miss you, I couldn't help but write to you. I couldn't help but write about you. And I couldn't help but wonder if you have a message for me, too.
I have so many things I wish to tell you, Rai. And I would like it if you could hear about them, too. Because I wish you'd also remember me the way I've been so busy missing you.
So I would write about you, because I don't want to forget the things you used to do. I don't want to forget how you used to call up just to wake me in the morning, because I couldn't wake up on my own alarm. How you would let your shoulder get drenched by the rain just to make sure that I stay dry. How you would purposely lose on rock-paper-scissors to let me choose what film to watch.
And I would write about you because I always want to remember you. To drown in the memories of you.
And I want to remember how you would slightly bend over just to hear me speak a little bit louder. How you would lightly hold my shoulder whenever we cross the street. How you would always give up the window seat when we ride the bus together. How you would always have a hairtie in your pocket just because I lose mine all the time.
And all the more, I woud miss you. Because you wouldn't be able to do those things for me anymore. But most of all, because I don't remember myself doing anything for you at all.
The list could go on and on and I would never tire of remembering all the things you used to do. And I would once again be gobbled up by that big warm blanket that was the memories of you.
Only these days, this blanket is becoming so heavy that sometimes it's getting hard to breathe.
How could you have died without letting me give something to you in return?
I wish I could have given you something precious. I wish I have made you smile the way you made my everyday so bright. I wish I have been your solace the way you have always been mine.
And though I haven't given you anything precious, I promise I will remember you. Because this time, it feels as if missing you is the only thing I could do to keep your memories alive.
So I will keep my letters to you, folded neatly in a box. And every time I miss you, I would read them one by one. And I would write about you everytime I miss you, because its the only thing I could do. Because to me, they have become a solace that keeps me from forgetting you.
But no matter how many times I fold them into paper airplanes, they could never fly high enough to reach you. And these letters are meaningless if I can't send them all to you.
© nabinara
