The weight

It has been months since he's been going here and it has been months since I've been watching him from afar.

Every day that passed seemed like a scheduled routine that he follows strictly. As I sit across the room, I could say that nothing much changed about him.

He still holds a guitar on his back and a bouquet of flowers on his hands. Aside from his hair growing longer and his beard starting to grow, I couldn't see anymore changes about him.

He's still the guy who comes here everyday to see the love of his life.

I guess it really is true love. Everytime he goes here, I could see his gleaming eyes and contagious smile.

He would always approach her with a kiss on her forehead and a tight squeeze on her hand.

He'd tell about his day like he wished she was there to accompany him. He would tell jokes and corny lines that he hopes would make her laugh, or even just crack a smile.

And he would sing to her with his guitar like he practiced a lot for her.

As he pours his heart own on every word of the song he sings, I could see his gleaming eyes full of wishes and a smile that he hoped would change everything.

While I see the happiness he tries hard to show, I could feel the loneliness that he hides. I could feel the space between the two lovers.

Before he leaves her every time, he would just loose it and tell her

"Even if those eyes don't even meet mine, I know you'd look at me the same. Even if you don't hold my hand, I know you'd love to hold me close. Even if you don't break a laugh or crack a smile, I know inside you, that you are happy. Come back, love. I miss you and I love you very much".

He'd give her a kiss good bye and leave like he doesn't want to.

I wish I could take all the pain away but I can't. I was the one praying for his recovery but he was the one going everyday to the hospital to pray for mine.