Fallen

"Look at me. I am a wreck," she said, weeping. Her eyeliner was smudging, her mascara running down her cheeks. The stream of tears washed away their blush, yet her face was red due to overflowing emotion. As her cosmetic mask was fading, she exposed her vulnerability in a way that only he could observe.

"The way I see it, you have been through a storm, but you're not exceedingly messed up. For that, it is quite natural to assume that, instead, you went on a rather smooth sailing," he replied, admiring her for being unbelievably candid.

"But people judge me nevertheless," she added, although she was now no longer looking as sombre.

He shrugged. "Oh, they do little else."

"They need to find something more interesting to do," she responded solemnly. "Would you, though?"

"I'll leave it to you, who does it better than anyone else. After all, we are our own worst critic."

"That's better than what I wanted to hear." She smiled, at last.

With her in his arms, suddenly the world seems to be a little kinder, because now he has a place to call home.

The Longing

"I will miss you."
"Of course you will. If anything, you have to, because I will miss you too and you know that. After all, you'll be deceased, not forgotten."
As he laughed, I watched his pain melted along with his joy in the form of tears and smiling eyes. I could not help but joining him. It was like our own way of celebrating life.

I remember the first time I had the feeling of longing for someone even more just after we met, the moment he waved goodbye before dissappeared from my sight. When I told him so, he said, "Me too. Shame that we only had so little time."

In the meantime, we have told each other, through our words or embraces, for too many times, "Please stay, a little longer." I knew he wanted to. I always knew I wanted to.

Today, he did not leave me they way he used to. This time, his hands were cold. And I was the only one who got the chance to say, "I will see you soon."