Saturday, November 30, 2013 ,1:36 PM
I miss the days we used to spend our days in our favorite cafe, ranting about our lives, talking about how much we wanted the times to pass so that everything we were having will only become memories. Beside the window, the rays of the fiery sun caressed your face while the black shadow that has casted over me was you.
Your smile shone like shining gold, reminded me of the tremors I felt when I first met you. The way you smoked that cigarettes, laughed at my rave about how my life had been so helter skelter those days. Everything that you did made me feel as if my feet had been gripped by the cafe floor; I just wanted to stay there with you forever.
At that time, even the dearest journal of yours made me envious. I wished I could be the journal you always kept by the side of your bed at night and the one who knew every vein of you, and every inch of your thoughts. While the black coffee I sipped, and the music we loved was being played, you told me that if I were to forget you, you would always be in this cafe, and wait for me.
My dear, you are never far from my thoughts as you are the only thing I think about lately. It took me a lot of courage to ever step into the little cafe where we used to share our moments together, again. I was afraid if I'm not going to find you in there, because I still remember you.
However, this morning, I made up my mind. I walked in through that door and sat on that chair in the corner, beside the window. The sun rays came down as always. The ashtrays that we etched our names on was still there. The music we used to sing along to, was being played too.
Every single thing in the cafe took me back to memory lane. I could vividly remember the way you stared at me, the way you sipped the coffee, the way you jotted down your feelings in your diary and the way you smiled. I could sense your presence, sitting on the chair in front of me, smoking cigarette and smirking sweetly at me. But you weren't there.
As much as how badly I want you to already sit on that chair, flipping through your diary, wait for me to come and wave your hand to me when you see me walk through the door, I just want you to be happy. I want you to be happy the way you are, and be happy at wherever you are.
I know you don't want to leave either. But I'm sure that's the best for you. Don't worry about me.
May God bless you, forever and always.