…and there I was, looking into her eyes, trying to smile as hard as I could, with dreary eyes I couldn’t see of my own.

“promise me. that this time, you wouldn’t ask…”

a discordant silence. a pair of deeply concerned eyes delving into mine. and the words she knew she wouldn’t say. a silent prayer where it was, needed no one to reach to.

her perplexed look. her concerned eyes. as if she wanted to say something, whether or not I asked not to, the look in her eyes confirmed the question both of us understood very well.

I averted her eyes in silent despair. yet even then, more than that, I wanted to hold her in my arms. I wanted her not to see my face, not to see my eyes — not in such circumstances, if it would at least be easier for both of us. but in the end all I could do was only telling her what I used to say, perhaps not even a good one at it.

“it’s okay. tomorrow I’ll be fine…”

that was what I told her. trying to smile once again, I pat her on the head as I walked few steps past her behind me. she was puzzled, but at the very least, still it was easier that way for us.

only for that time, I didn’t want her to ask. only for that time, I’m sure she would understand. and more than that, I believed in her — that I would be okay, that she would understand, and that the following day she would smile to me just like she always did.

“…you will be okay, right?”

a palpable pain in her words. unbeknownst to things left unsaid, only with those disconcerted feelings between us. grasping the silence and remaining sense of pain, I decided not to look back at her. not that time, not where I wouldn’t want her to look into my eyes once again.

still with my back against her, yet to walk with blurry eyes I didn’t want her to see, I clenched my fist in torment.

“…for you, I will.”

it’s a promise.


—written on an afternoon in August

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