YZARIAH ZAMIRA SALAZAR
I stopped right in front of the familiar mini garden I owned. Classes had just ended, but I didn't feel like going home. I came straight here instead, like a habit I couldn't break.
It's the only place that still feels like ours.
I felt it building in my chest—the heaviness, the ache-the overwhelming urge to just break down.
I saw her.
She was there.
Our eyes met.
But for the second time... she didn't recognize me. Not even a flicker of familiarity in her eyes. No warmth. No softness. Nothing.
She doesn't remember that I'm her girlfriend. That I held her every night before the world went dark for her.
I stepped out of my car as the cold wind greeted me like an old friend. The sky was already cloaked in darkness, and the only light came from the glowing unicorn statue in the middle of the garden—the one we loved so much.
I walked toward it, each step feeling heavier than the last. My chest felt like it was caving in.
And then... the tears came-without warning, without sound. Just pain pouring out of my eyes as my fingers brushed against the cold surface of the unicorn statue.
This garden... this small sacred space... was a witness to our dreams.
This is where we promised each other forever when were a kid. This is where she held my hands.
It's been a year.
That promise still lingers in the air—but it remains unfulfilled.
I'm twenty-five now. She's twenty-three. We should've been planning our wedding. We should've been arguing over cake flavors or honeymoon destinations.
Instead... I'm here, crying like a child beneath the dim glow of a statue, while she walks around this world not knowing who I am.
I wiped my tears with shaky hands, but they kept falling. My shoulders trembled, my knees threatened to give out.
I'm so tired.
So, so tired.
Sometimes, I just want to give up. Book a flight back to Italy. Vanish from this pain. But every time I try to leave—I remember she's still here.
She's here. And this is still her home. Still our home.
I stood there, frozen in front of the glowing unicorn, while my tears kept falling. My sobs were silent, but they hurt more than screams ever could. The silence of my pain made everything heavier. It was the kind of pain that lived deep in the bones—quiet, but suffocating.
I miss her.
I miss the way she used to say my name like it was the most beautiful sound she knew. I miss the warmth in her eyes whenever she looked at me, the kind of gaze that made me feel seen... understood... loved. And it hurts so much that now, those same eyes look through me like I'm a stranger.
It hurts that she doesn't even know there's something to miss.
I tilted my head up, my tears freely falling as I stared at the vast night sky. The stars used to give me comfort. Now they only remind me of the nights we spent lying under them, making promises we thought nothing could break.
"This is too much… I can't do this anymore," I whispered, my voice cracking, raw with grief. "It hurts... it hurts so much," I choked, barely able to speak between sobs.
