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The cold Makati wind blasted on my face. I looked at my wristwatch. 8:58, it said. Standing on the edge of a building with more than a hundred floors, I looked down and wondered just how long it would take for my body to hit the hard, solid ground. I assumed it would be about thirty seconds. At most, my time of death would be 8:59 P.M. I smiled at the thought of dying a minute before she did.
I can still remember the first time I met her. It was three years ago in this very building. The only difference is that it was morning back then, she was alive, and I wasn't as insistent on dying as I am now. Three years ago, the door slammed open and she showed up holding a sandwich that she said was her breakfast. Three years ago, she sat beside me, offered me half of her sandwich, and told me not to die with an empty stomach. Three years ago, she spent an hour beside me. She talked and I listened as music blasted from her phone. And when she left, I contemplated whether I should fall or live. Three years ago, I did both - I lived and fell for her.
But one year after that, she was diagnosed with brain cancer. Half a year later, she spent a month unconscious in the ICU. At the end of that month, she woke up. But my joy was only temporary and I watched as the lights in her eyes went out. The light of my life was gone and darkness slowly wrapped around me as we mourned her death.
When she left, I contemplated whether I should fall or live. I wanted to do both again but somewhere deep inside me, I knew that if I wanted to live, I had to let go of her. I couldn't bear to do it. Because, really, how could I simply let go of the light who found me three years ago?
So now, here I am at the edge of the same rooftop where I met her; where I loved her. Nohundre 8:58. I must be delusional to hope that the door will open and I'll see her face again but just for a fraction of a second, I hoped. And when I opened my eyes to reality, I fell.
The cold Makati wind enveloped me as I skydived without a parachute. And as I fell once more, I knew that I'd meet her again. This time, I'll be the one to find her.
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dis waz a little shit that i did back in ninth grade. bebi julie said i should post it here uwu
BINABASA MO ANG
Our Little Moments
Short Story[TAGLISH / ENGLISH] a compilation of scenarios i think about sometimes. most don't have plots and are just mundane snippets of life but they mostly revolve around love and heartbreak and those other things in between. some are written in taglish, so...
