by Marielle Iarathelle Trinidad

Photo by Kaylee Stepkoski on Unsplash

The skies were filled with blue, pink, and violet streaks, a blast of colors that splashed through a potentially excellent day to finally come around my life. After years of days with clouds hung with the darkest draperies, always loomed with tear-streaked stars and a hushed oath of trying to stay true to what has been promised, the skies finally gave me a sign towards you. 

As the day started to unfold, my legs found themselves walking toward a place they have been more familiar with than my own home. Despite its evident weariness and cramps slowly creeping through my calves, they continuously go around as if it was the last place to be.

For years around, I’ve been constantly waiting behind the place we first and last met, living proof of a fateful and painful encounter. I sat on the tamed grass while feeling the glaring square marble placed directly above it, obviously colder than the warm spring breeze. My fingers voluntarily traced every stroke engraved, as it had known what it said for years. The words felt heavier than what they usually weighed in the past before they became golden immortalization of your memories. The melancholic wind that familiarly knew my skin blows, and it sings a broken melody that slips through my veins. 

I know you won’t ever come again, and that no one else would dare to come here aside from myself. Yet I never forgot to carry your favorite thing here that always reminded you of the clouds, and reminded me of your brightly dyed hair. You loved maintaining its brightest shade of pink, even though it was painful and expensive to fix the roots from time to time. Your hair with blue and yellow streaks caught everyone’s attention, and I can’t even blame them because it just demands each one of our eyes. 

While basking in their words, mixed with hushes that do not hesitate to slander whatever remained from you- from us, we just tried to stand still. I knew how you wished you’d pass like a shadow standing behind all of this, but it never happened. We were never the shadows that can hide, nor the stars that can shine in their full glory without being scared of the darkness. We were the clouds, the skies that they admire whenever the sun kisses them with their warmth, the same skies that they curse whenever the wind blows and the heavy rain pours. 

We were the constant skies, present in whatever season, basking in permanence no matter what happens. In this chaos, you were all that I see, all that I know. I always listened to you, but why did I not know that this would happen. That someday, you’ll be tired of being the sky for the people around you and finally chose the heavens that will love you greater. The thing is, even if I wanted to continue for you, for the both of us- in the end, the choice will forever be yours and it pains me that I let you go.

And I know that you’re gone, yet I still can’t say farewell to the cotton candy staining my fingers, melting in the warmth of the sun. You are gone, yet I am still trying to grasp the gooey liquid running through my palm, trickling down helplessly just like how I helplessly lost you years ago. 

I can’t let you go. 

I selfishly wished the skies were not filled with the most vivid blue, pink, and violet shades anymore. Everything just reminds me of you, and how the skies have taken you away from me, nothing left but the sweet sugar that only bore my guilt of being unable to save you.