The Untold Stories.

Alright.

It was rather a foggy night, with layers of white smoke accompanying the air.

And as far as I remember, you and me were sitting on the roof top, you, with a cigarette resting in between your lips, and me being the owner of a steaming cup of ginger tea.

I reckon being upset, a little too upset, though I don't remember the reason anymore.

Maybe it was because of a family fight, or another after-break-up scene, I don't remember.

But I remember your words, I remember you told me that it'll get better, and things will be alright, and I remember you embraced me into a bone crushing hug after saying the consolations.

That day onwards, it was confirmed that you were just another one of them.
Another one liar.

I was angry at you, and I wanted to yell at you, and even slap you for once. I wanted you to tell me the truth. I wanted you to tell me that this is real life, and nothing gets absolutely alright here, and even if it does get alright, the gaiety doesn't last forever. I never wished for your lies, my dear. Never. And that night, I just wanted you to stay with me. I wanted to talk, to tell you how much I hated vinegar, to name the only constellation I knew from the night sky and to even tell you the reason why I didn't believe in god. I wanted you to hear me out.

But all my desires, and the whole of my anger melted down when you pulled me in for another hug, a tighter one, so tight that I felt it reaching through my bone marrow, and warming up my soul.
All of a sudden, your lies were not lies anymore. Because they felt like the only true words to my ears. Everything else felt like a mirage, a lie. Except you and your smile. It was an amazing feeling, truly an amazing one. It felt that things were alright, actually alright now.

And soon you backed away from the embrace and gave me one last smile. I watched in confusion as you stood up on your feet, brushing off the dirt from your ripped levis and said, at last, a good bye.
Even though I wished to stop you with each cell in my body, I didn't.
I allowed you to walk away, I allowed you freedom, I allowed you a farewell with a fake smile glued to my lips. And I saw your figure walking away, separating away until it finally faded behind the thick , white fog.

I turned around with a heavy heart and a choking throat and stared at my cup, which contained a cold liquid now, instead of a lukewarm ginger tea. Beside the small cup, there was a lighter and a packet of malboro. So, I lit the first cigarette of my entire life, and coughed my ass off after the first drag.
But after a while, the process became smooth. 
With each puff of nicotine exhaling my mouth, I realised that you were not a liar.
Your actions taught me that the phase 'alright' doesn't last forever.
As just five minutes ago, I was in your arms, all happy and all right.
But now, here I was, with my new companion, engulfed in grief and smoke and not-so-all-right.