Wrong Person, Write Love.

Prose 033: Why There's No 32nd Sunset

That afternoon, I was sitting on the pavement in my favorite place. I smiled just by looking at how beautiful sunsets are. The sea perfectly reflected the scarlet sky, and many times I've been tempted to capture the mesmerizing scene with my phone's camera.

But then I remembered, I no longer have someone to send it to. I pursed my lips and stared at the sun that's slowly being swallowed by the ocean. It felt a lot longer than when I watched them with you.

Why did I ever promise that to myself in the first place? That everytime I had the opportunity to see the sunset, I'll always make sure that you'll also see them. I even included it in my bucket list, that I should watch a hundred and fifty sunsets with you.

But now, seeing even just the tiniest trace of scarlet color in the sky makes me sad. Can't you see them? The sky and the stars-- they're missing you. I wanted to tell you that, but I knew I shouldn't.

You never really liked them at all, do you? You just pretended you did.

You never really liked me at all, either. You just pretended you did.

I know. I've always known.

I just pretended I didn't.

- Aries Writes, "Why there's no 32nd sunset."