on the next spring | ✓

18

Dia - Anji

Winter in 1998

I put the jacket on the coat hanger and went straight to the bed. It was three o'clock in the morning, and I had no desire to walk dreadly to my house and bump into my mum. She probably was not even home yet, but I was pretty sure she would come home drunk. And I wasn't fond of the sight. I would rather spend my time elsewhere. 

Somewhere nice and cozy.

And that was around her.

She wasn't awake, so I didn't bother to ask her who I was.

Yes, the routine was still going on. Except she wouldn't ask "who are you" anymore, she would just spare me a glance and stared through the window again. It hurt, it hurt too much that I didn't have much energy left to cry anymore. I'd smile at her, reached out for the scrapbook and read it for her. The scrapbook was already torned. Several pages faded as I wrote it with pencils. As I was examining the book, she suddenly wiggled on her bed. 

Few seconds after, she opened her eyes. Our gazes met, and all I could do was smiled to her. Awkwardly. 

Imagine waking up to just anyone besides your bed. 

Creepy. 

"I'm sorry. Did I- Did I wake you up? I wasn't- I was just - Go back to sleep then. I'll go." I contemplated on leaving when she grabbed the scrapbook in my hand gently and waved it in front of her. I stared at her blankly. She hadn't been talking, so I would do the work to understand her body language. "You - you want me to read it?" 

She nodded, as she handed me the book and hid her neck under the blanket, blinking to the ceiling. Probably waiting for me to start reading. 

Day 478 of reading the scrapbook to her. I held them and as my voice filled in ever corner of the room, the last one year flashes before my eyes. Every emotion kicked in into me. I didn't know if it was the cold winter wind, or was the heater overheated the whole room, but I was feeling too many emotion at a time. The three o'clock wind got into me that I didn't get to finish whatever I was reading. When I peeked to look at her, she was already fast asleep. She might dozed off while I was still in the middle of reading. 

And within a second, I broke into tears. I wasn't hiding it. I sobbed. I cried my heart out for all the time I had gone through for the past year. I longed and felt for her, I longed and felt for me. The hospital atmosphere that had been far more familiar than my own house, the memory of her face that had been even more genuine than my own mother. I spent a lot of time here, that I felt like I was strong enough. But I wasn't. It was heart wrenching, it broke me. 

And what broke me wasn't me myself, but her condition. The bright girl, the smart girl, the active one, pride of the neighbourhood, the hidden gems that wasn't actually hidden as she shone wherever she went. She would have the brightest future ahead of her. She would be the most successful person on earth. 

What broke me more was the fact that before he disease declared its way towards her, she didn't get to experience a normal highschool year because of me. Because she spent almost all of her time with me, because she took care of me who hardly went to school. I was sorry, I was too sorry that I stole her those times. It suddenly hit me, that it had always been that way. 

Hey.

I promise if I could switch our position, I would. I could die from it and be born again to experience the same thing and would still switch my position with you.

I wish I could relive my life over and over again just to meet you, to know you a little better, an inch closer each time. I wish I could hug you by the end of the time loop.

I wish. 

+++

I was nervous. I didn't know what to do, if she would even respond to whatever I had to say, but eventhough she most likely wouldn't even budge, I was shivering from head to toe. 

I guess I was the one who wasn't ready for this. 

I swung the door open, and there she was again, at the same spot, at the same position. Staring at the window, without even looking at me. 

"Hey." 

Of course she didn't answer. You should know the rules by now. 

"Hey." 

Silent. 

"Lee." She turned to me. But this time around, she didn't spare me a glance. Instead, she stared at me. She didn't say anything, though. As I walked closer, I smiled to her. I settled down on the chair, and laughed as I saw the scrapbook lying on the couch. I shook my head, amused. "Man, that's ugly." I pointed out. She was just staring at me, blankly. But I didn't flinch. Instead, I did something else. 

"Do you remember me?"

She was still staring. 

I knew she wasn't gonna answer. That day, particularly that day, I just wanted her to know me as someone different. 

"The man who love you the most. I'm him."

And her face changed. I wished I could gather her expression and put them all inside of my pocket. I need them. 

"Can I take you out for a date?"