I sat upright, breathing hard. The discarded blanket lay by the foot of the bed. It was that dream. Again. It always haunted my conscience, and now it was haunting my sub-consciousness as well? I glanced at the wooden photo-frame resting on the table. I had turned it facing downwards, not willing to look at your smiling face. The night air still crept in through the small crevice of the window and it chilled me. However cold it might be, it could never compare with the cold bareness of my soul. I had lost you. You have slipped out of my grasp so easily. I could still feel your lingering fingers fixing my hair and your breath at my neck. But, even if I did try to avoid it, it still didn’t mend me. It wasn’t any help that I lived life as normally as I could; it wasn’t any help that I turned away from any mention of your name. They were all expecting me to break, to scream and cry, to breakdown. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. What was the use of it? I kept on telling myself that tomorrow will be better, that eventually, I will forget you. I never could.

“Go,” I nodded towards the lone girl standing by the railway station, anxiously glancing at her watch.

The lone girl seemed dejected. She seemed to be staring far into empty space, clinging onto the lingering regrets that were pulling her down. I knew you wanted to be with her. I couldn’t stop you. You stared at me, hesitant, confused. I didn’t want you to be confused. I wanted you to be sure. I wanted you to be so sure, that you wouldn’t even look back when you go to her. I couldn’t have you by my side and that was fine. I will respect everything to throw at me. You reached out for my hand, but I withdrew it out of your grasp. I didn’t want your last memory of me to be of a weak, trembling girl. I wanted you to see me as a fleeting, but happy memory, as I will see when I think of you. But I never said it was easy. You were reluctant to leave my side. But were you really? I couldn’t hold on when I have nothing to hold onto. That’s not true for you, but my dimming heart would always hold onto to that small little glimmer of hope.

“Go, before she leaves,” I gave you a small shove in the girl’s direction.

I wasn’t angry, just sad. I couldn’t bring myself to look into your wet eyes, because some part in me knew that those tears weren’t meant for me. That was okay, I didn’t want you to cry for me. It wasn’t fair, though, that I was crying for you instead. A tear slipped down my face, trailing down my cheeks where you used to kiss them sweetly and past my lips that still were eager for your touch. I turned away. You used to love me too, once. You used to cry for me some time ago. You used to yearn for my kiss as much as I yearned for yours. I guess I can’t stop you.

“You heard me. Go to her,” I said again. “I’m happy for you, really.”

You were silent. I would guess that you had nothing to say to me. I would guess that almost every word you could think of was meant for her instead. I’m sorry you couldn’t think of me. I’m sorry I couldn’t make you love me like how I did for you. It made me feel better, apologising for you, apologising for your mistakes. But I will respect your mistake and accept it as my own. My heart will continue to beat for you even if your heart doesn’t beat for me.

“Are you really?” you ask with uncertainty tinting your voice.

As the tear fell to the floor, I looked up at you, trying my best to smile as if nothing was wrong. I knew I was going to have to lie again.

“Yes.”

You took a deep breath before asking again. Why are you asking me for permission? Your heart is yours. I don’t want to cage it.

“Are you really happy for me, Jess?”

Please, don’t call me that. Don’t call me by your special, unique terms of endearment anymore. I didn’t want to cry. Only my welled up tears will remember you and yet there would also be traces of happiness of when my life had been complete with you.

“Of course.”

You grabbed my arm, your thumb tracing your name. It was what you used to do as we lay in each others’ arms, waiting to fall asleep. I guess I was falling asleep now. I guess time was falling asleep now. It was over so fast and now only the prolonged sadness lingered on.

“Thank you, Jessi,” you gave me an appreciative smile and you released my hand, like how you released my heart. “I will never forget you.”

No, that was wrong. I wanted you to forget me. But maybe, just maybe, when you think of me as a passing memory, I hope you would remember me as the frail, weak girl waiting by the train station for you to turn around. I hope you remember me as someone who was only strong for you. I hope you remember me as the girl who let you go with a smile on her face.

I didn’t say anything as I watched you walk towards her. It’ll probably be erased again, it’ll probably be distant again, this memory. We would probably forget each other no matter how hard I try to hold on. I would probably get used to spending my days without you; tomorrow would probably be a little more comfortable. I would probably forget you little by little. Our love will be as if it never existed. Now that you have another to write over our memories with, it would probably fade away little by little. Slowly, you wouldn’t think of me anymore, but that’s okay. Gradually, you would forget the feeling of your hand in mine, but that’s okay. Eventually, you would only remember my face, but not my name. Finally, you would only recall the way your heart beats in sync with mine. Because when yours stops beating, mine will too. You caught up with her as the train arrived. As I watched, you stared deep into her eyes as you had with me. I would probably forget like this, as a stranger waiting for the train that would never arrive.