6 The Gentle Winds

The soft touch of the wind. The whispers of the air. They all softly and gently ruffle my skin.

I look down at the city below, filled with noise and light. From the hill I was on, I watch as people go by with smiles on their faces.

They sure do look happy. But knowing life, I know most of those smiles were facades. Masks worn to hide the anguish and pain in their hearts. Just like me.

My hair sway in the wind, unbothered by the weather and free from its usual appearance.

Slowly, I sat on the ground and brought my knees to my chest.

Why do I try so hard? This i always ask myself. Nothing good has come out of my existence and I honestly don't think anything will. The cruel hand of Fate has always shown its majestic self to me, and honestly, I'm tired of fighting it.

Is it bad if I just want to end it all? I mean, no one will miss me. After all, who will notice an insignificant bub of dark flower wither away and dissappear into the unforgiving wind of death.

But then, I remember those smiles. Those laughs. Those hands that hold me. That voice that tells me everything will be fine. Those eyes that look at me with undying love, even though I fuck up every single time. The pride that whiff from her every single time.

I bury my face into my knees, trying hard to will the tears away. But they seem to have a mind of their own and they tickle down my face, dripping on the cold, hard ground and the white dress I'm in.

Maybe... maybe I should live for a while. Although I'm holding this heavy pain in my heart, I don't want to miss that voice. Although my soul feels ready to just up and leave, forgetting everything behind, I don't want that bright and loving soul to sink into despair.

Maybe suffering for a while won't be so bad. All for that smile.