The serviette was scrawled with almost illegible writing. The pen she used had ripped the tissue in some places, damaging its integrity. Even though I was crying, I couldn’t use it to wipe my tears. The nurse gave it to me, she said they were her last words before she pulled out her drips. More like before she committed suicide I thought, with a slight chuckle. Even if it was suicide, she did it for me didn’t she? Just like everything else.

She wasn’t much younger than me, and we weren’t romantically engaged, but she was a good friend. Someone who looked out for me and had an indirect but precise way of helping. To be cliché, she was the light in the tunnel that was my life. In some ways, she tried to make me see the beautiful things in the world. She said that actually, once when we were in high school. I was crying after I had received an essay back. It wasn’t too bad, but it was the worst I had ever done, even if I wasn’t a straight A student. I had run out of the class to where I usually go, a tree in a nearby park. Its leaves stretched outwards and left a cavity where two people could sit, protected from the wind, protected from the rain, protected from the world. Birds chirped around the trees, and orange butterflies usually rested in its shade. I was sulking when she came in. Embarrassment and shame were the first emotions I felt, but after she started hugging me, I was feeling more pathetic than anything. That was the first moment I heard her say, “Try seeing the beautiful things in life. The light will always break through the shadows.”

As inspiring as her words were, it didn’t stop me crying, but every time she said that again, I could feel a hand on my back, and someone protecting me from everything else. I don’t mean to boast, but she was probably the best best-friend anyone could have. We didn’t go out eating, we didn’t see movies and we didn’t even talk much. Our favourite activity together was existing, or rather co-existing. Whenever we were near, we didn’t need to talk, we simply just connected in a way that couldn’t be explained. It was like our existences comforted each other, like we were one. Sitting in the tree, listening to the birds and watching the butterflies. Sometimes, time would stop and I would be able to see the beautiful things in life. How the sunlight filtered through the autumn leaves, with rays of orange light streaming into the tree. How the butterflies danced with each other to the rhythm of the wind. How all the entities of the earth harmonised. As much as I thought time stopped, it didn’t. Time continued, and from dust, we returned.

It was nearing the end of schooling for the both of us. Our whole year level was preparing for graduation, decorating the school with banners and posters. Girls talking about how expensive their outfits cost, and boys talking about how pretty their dates are. I took part in many graduation conversations, but I didn’t have a date. Everyone could see I was going to ask only one person, and that person would definitely say yes, but there was something else. Something in the back of mind that told me I shouldn’t. Looking back, I can slightly empathise. I didn’t want to burden her. I didn’t want to force her to go with me. Maybe she liked another boy, maybe she secretly hated me and maybe she won’t have fun with me. And so, it was during one time in the tree that I talked to her. It was a cold day, but the tree held in our warmth.

“Have you got a date for the graduation yet?”

“No, have you?”

“I don’t…”

The conversation could have ended there. I could feel she thought I wasn’t going anywhere with it, but I had to ask her, had to make a regretful decision,

“I don’t want to sound cocky, but did you expect me to ask you?”

By now, she turned to look at me. Her eyes stared directly into mine. It was uncomfortable, but appropriate.

“Yes.”

My face was reddening. It was embarrassment, but also regret.

“I don’t want you to go with me…”

I had planned to continue, but she had left already. She walked straight out of the tree, baring the small cuts from the dried twigs. From our shielded place into the world. Suddenly, the tree felt colder.