Right thing to do

My wish

My wish for you is to be happy and well.

-

Eddy was not really an early riser, he would wake up only minutes before his alarm. Eight minutes left, he checked his phone then turned it off. Not wanting to get up, he still did, for they have a flight later that day. Eddy sat on the bed. Watched over his friend asleep on the bed beside his. Brett was grining on his sleep, dreaming of bubble tea maybe. Eddy smiled to himself, secretly wished that his precious eight minutes won't run out.

-

My dream is to make your dreams come true.

-

Trying different bowings, fingerings or just plain experimenting to achieve a better sounding result was what Eddy was doing. Not so fixated on the directions on the paper, rather trying out which works best for him was his style. For about the past fifteen minutes, he heard Brett repeatedly playing the same phrase. Had different mistakes each time. 'Brett needs to relax' he thought, 'having a clear mindset can make things easier.' Eddy then approached Brett.

-

My prayer is that both of us may always be together.

-

Everything, everyone, anywhere are all unfamiliar. In a new country of a new city in a new town, Eddy felt lost. But he is not alone. He held Brett's hand, not wanting to lose him physically, mentally, emotionally. He held on to him, as he is Eddy's dearest, he then slightly ran his thumb along the soft skin. He mused on how Brett's skin felt against his own as they both traversed the busy street crossing.

---

It was late in the afternoon when Eddy came out of his room. He looked like he had a lot on his plate, hair disheveled, shoulders dropped, his lips heavily sighed. Eddy pulled his luggage and hung his violin on his back.

Eddy checked his watch, almost time. If he can get to the door smoothly, everything would be fine. 'Isn't this what you are good at, running away?' he cursed to himself.

On his way to the front door, his mother noticed him passed by the kitchen. She was busy with the dishes, but she still stopped him.

'Not now mom, let me go...' Eddy thought.

"Where are you going, son?" His mother asked worryingly. "Isn't the wedding tomorrow?" She added as she walked to him.

Not even bothering to turn around, Eddy answered, "I have a flight to catch."

"Where are you going?" Her voice with more hint of worry.

Eddy gulped down an invisible barrier for words, even though he did, he was silent.

"Aren't you Brett's best man?"

Eddy's shoulders shook that very instant. 'Best man.' He faced his mom, with tears forming in his eyes he said, "That--" the sudden surge of tears resulted in laborious breathing.

As a mother, she felt it, her poor child is hurt and this time half of the blame is hers. She reached out to him. To touch his face, to stop him from tearing up, to halt the trembling, to calm him down, all of it with the very hands that raised him.

"That," Eddy looked at her in the eyes, "That's why I am leaving!"

"Oh, Eddy..." She hugged him. Tight. Whispered sweet things, good things to his hair. Patted his head, 'I am with you.' Rubbed his back, 'Relax, I am here.' kissed his forehead, 'I love you, son.' She swayed a little bit as if this child of hers was cradled like a baby he was before.

Eddy wrapped his arms around her too. Apologized many, asked her plenty. He cried in his mother's arms, loudly, 'I'm sorry...' Made incoherent noises, 'I love him...' Clutched to her for dear life, 'It hurts.' Eddy clung to her, cried his heart out to her like the baby he was before.

"Eddy... My baby..." Her arms wrapped around tighter. Not wanting to let go. "...Don't go." She kissed his hair many, pleaded to him plenty.

He wanted to tell her all, to stay for her and all, but he had to go. He really had to go. With tears trickling down, Eddy forced to let go of her embrace. "I'm sorry mom," he stepped back, "I can't do this..." He wiped his tears but they still come back.

"Eddy..." She was crying too.

With much difficulty, he said, "I can't..." Eddy bit his lip, "I can't watch the love of my life, marry someone else..." he sobbed,

"...from that front row seat."

That afternoon the sun tinted the sky violet and orange. Orange for the memories of the happy days. Violet for the unforeseen end of those days. Like how the sun sets and rises, us only humans, can't turn the tide of meetings and departures.