It is morning again. Phee wokes up long before his alarm set off. It was always like this; it has always been like this. Since that day he said those spiteful words; those hateful words that eventually came back at him; haunting him in his dreams, like shadows lurking in the dark; like the devil waiting for another hopeless soul to be his victim.
And he was that hopeless soul. Trying to find that hope, that light; trying to find its anchor; trying to find its way back home.
But will he be able to go back home if the one that must be waiting for him isn't there anymore; if the one he's looking forward to hug, to kiss, to feel, isn't there anymore but somewhere else; somewhere far away; somewhere he cannot even reach; somewhere he cannot even touch.
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Allthat is left now is regret; regret of spitting those bitter words; those wordsthat weren't supposed to be said because of anger, of rage, of blindness.
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Those words that Phee never expected to be his last to the person he loved; to the person he wanted to protect but failed to do so; to the person that he cherished but at the same time broke; to the person he is willingly to do anything, everything; to the person who up until now has his heart.
To his Non.
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His light.
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His hope.
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His love.
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