A lone figure huddled in a corner of the dark room, listening to the pitter-patter of the raindrops softly hammering against the windows. The night was young and yet she sat alone in the dark, trying to straighten her feelings. Drowned in her own thoughts and completely immersed in her own little world, she finally let out a long-suppressed sob.

It could've been different, she thought to herself and let out a bitter chuckle.

Flashbacks of her best friend admitting to be hopelessly in love with someone else was just too heartbreaking for her to handle. Oh, how she wished it was all a joke and everything would return to normal when she awakes from this surreal dream, but no, April was long gone; and so was her heart. Her nails subconsciously dug into her palms. Her bloodshot eyes were mere hollow orbs staring off into space as evident tears etched across her baby face like stains on a blank canvas.

You're too cute to be crying, a petite girl whom she did not know had said to her when she dropped her ice cream cone - that, she remembered, was eight years ago when they first met in a cool summer night.

Her eyes that stretched into beautiful curves when she smiled.

Her giggle that never fails to spread like wildfire.

Her voice that was ever so melodious and soothing.

Everything about her was the definition of perfection.

Memories. She finally knew why memories are painfully beautiful. Memories are indeed heartwarming, but they also have the ability to tear someone apart. And now she was the one who was left with all the pain and loneliness.

Thoughts flooded her mind.

Why am I feeling like this?

Shouldn't I be happy for you?

I'm not being a good best friend.

Then it dawned on her.

Because maybe I'm just a fraction of your memory after all.

Because maybe I'm just your best friend.

Because maybe you had the key to my heart, and yet you chose to let it go.

Because maybe I love you.