The Ballad of a Robot

Harvey: Violets Are Blue

A temporary companion for my loneliness.

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Violets Are Blue: A Very Short Story

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3 years ago, I met this girl who kept her head stuck in a book almost every time so no one could see the emptiness in her eyes. She’d rather get stuck in the dreamlike fictional world than what's out here.

I never noticed her until one night, during a school activity, I went out to the school’s rooftop to see the stars. Instead, I saw her looking up to the sky. The silence was then followed by sniffs. It was late, but I sat beside her, who by that time seems shocked. I asked her why she was crying. Maybe it was the night, maybe she felt hidden by the darkness around her, maybe she found comfort because of the stars above her, but she told me how she felt.

I’ve been there for her after that incident. I found out what were hidden behind her long sleeved shirts and the reason behind her bloodshot eyes. So I look at her and see the pain in her fake smiles. I smile back. Then she’d tell me that she was just tired. And I just wanted to take her and wrap her up in my arms. I wanted to hold her, tell her things that she would believe. Then there I knew I was falling for someone who’s broken.

She started to clutter my mind. The thoughts of her, thoughts of me with her. Thoughts that lull me to sleep at night. Sometimes, I like how I felt about her. Sometimes, I thought that maybe I just have an obsession of wanting to fix someone.

When we eventually started a relationship, she’d always tell me that I filled the gap inside her in a way that makes her forget how empty she was. She’d tell me that I mend her with my words, that I filled in the silence every time it occupies. And all I wanted was to take all the scraps that she doesn’t like about herself and show her that I’ll always stay. I’d tell her she’s beautiful and she’s worth it. I’d tell her she’ll make mistakes but I would never turn my back on her. Then I’d tell her that I love her. We were contented and happy.

I thought we were fine. I thought she was fine. I scanned what happened that day and the day before that, over and over again, to find where I went wrong, what I said, what I did not say. I got frustrated about the fact that I found her in bed with an empty pill bottle on her hand. It frustrated me that I can’t do anything but to call an ambulance and hope she was safe. She made me feel breathless. Now, she is.

I miss her in nights like this. I run my mind over everything again, getting no answers, I don’t think I’ll ever get the answers I need. I’m sad, and she’s sleeping eternally. I loved her and sometimes, she loved me too.