Wrong Person, Write Love.

Prose 004: 'But At Least, He Stayed'

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"I really thought keeping you out of my mind will help me from falling apart all over again. But then, I forgot that our memories aren't something I just thought of. They were embedded in my heart, immortalized by the pen and ink I used in the sonnets and love songs I wrote for you.

So since I have no other painful choice left, I'd follow what Shakespeare once said: I'll feel the pain until it hurts no more. I'd continue keeping a safe distance, writing with this broken pen of mine and wait until it runs out of ink – hoping that my heart will run out of love for you too."

- Aries

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"There's this superstitious belief about nine stars. I once read it in a book. They said that if you count nine stars for nine consecutive nights and uttered your wish only on the ninth night, it will come true.

I did it. Perhaps I was so sad when I learned that the man I secretly loved was leaving, so I desperately tried to cling into the hopes of something like that.

For nine nights, I went out after doing my school works and stared up at the blanket of stars. I felt like they were somehow agreeing to my prayers, because they shone so bright and no cloud ever blocked their way all throughout those nights. He even called me over the phone during those times – and he played his guitar and sang for me. We spent a lot of time together, those which I can still vividly remember until now.

That made me so happy because I felt like the universe is conspiring to bring us closer together.

And so the ninth night came.

"I wish he wouldn't leave. I wish he'd find a reason to stay. Please let him be happy."

That's exactly what I wished for two years ago. And I can say that it really is real. My wish came true.

He finally found his happiness – his reason to stay.

I was happy, because I already knew it.

It was never me."

- Aries, "But At least, He Stayed."