If Only

Prologue

Jade

The notion that losing someone you hold dear will fundamentally alter your life used to strike me as an overstatement. The idea that such an event could be the most devastating in one's life seemed exaggerated. The concept of making life-altering changes in response to someone's departure always appeared absurd to me, as if losing them somehow took a piece of your very identity.

To me, it was simply a ridiculous idea.

But now, having lived through it, I understand the profound impact of such a loss.

My world started to crumble down from that day when my grandfather passed away.

My grandfather, the cornerstone of my existence, the one soul who unlocked the deepest chambers of my heart and understood me in ways no other ever could, had vanished from my life. Though my parents remained by my side, their presence paled in comparison to the profound bond I shared with my grandfather. He was my guiding light through life's labyrinth, offering wisdom and solace that no other could provide. His absence tore through my soul, leaving behind an insurmountable void that no amount of time or solace could ever hope to fill. It was a loss so profound, so devastating, that it forever altered the very essence of my being.

He treated me like a cherished friend, extending a helping hand as though it were his duty. In his devotion, I felt the warmth of a father's love, reciprocating with my own.

Yet, as I find myself slowly disintegrating, my fragments are carried away by the wind. Much like the day we scattered my grandfather's ashes in the breeze. It was on that day that the true weight of pain settled upon me.

My face remained soaked with tears that seemed endless.

Then came the moment when I experienced a profound shift. The turmoil unleashed by the loss of someone dear was undeniably genuine.

Rarely do I venture outside my room, my words are scarce, and I struggle to recall the last time I genuinely smiled. The house of my grandparents, once a sanctuary of childhood memories, remains untouched.

I am a different person now.

The radiant light that once illuminated me has dimmed, and I find myself incapable of rekindling it. The one person who knew how to ignite that light is gone.

My grandfather is no more.

And the prospect of confronting this agonizing reality feels almost unbearable.