It was 3.05 in the morning, and he was sitting on the wooden floor in his bedroom, listening to the loneliness. The morning was so quiet, so much so that he could hear the drizzling outside. He feels cold for some reason despite having the warmer on. He sighed, staring at the two cups of hot chocolate beside him. Thick steam rose from the cup, and he remembered how she always holds the cup with both her hands to get the warm from it when he was busy doing something else.

              He can’t sleep, and he doesn’t care. Ever since she left, he has always been like this.

             He was reminded of their past again, how they were so in love. She moved into his small and broken flat and did not step out for a few days. They were so in love. She learned how to do the laundry and cook for him. They were so in love. She gives in to him all the time, allowing him to do whatever he wants whenever he throws a tantrum.

             Even to the extent of breaking everything every time they quarrel, including the door to their room.

             She cried for a few days.

             She left without answering his calls.

             She told him that if she was his wrong love, please let her go.

             But I don’t want you to leave, he said

             She told him not to feel sorry.

             How?

             Because she knows that getting along is much more difficult than love.

             But at least they tried, and it’s not working well.

             She told him that he was the king, but she wasn’t the queen.

             No…

             She said goodbye, and that not loving is also a form of love.

Long time before they started quarreling over the smallest thing; he brought her to the river for a boat ride, and she said she was giddy.

             He brought her to the mountain for the sunset, and she said it was beautiful.

             He brought her to the concert of her favorite band, and she was so touched that she cried.

             The days that they went through together, it felt like yesterday.

             He doesn’t know how to describe her goodness and innocence; and he doesn’t know what to do to have her back by his side. All he could do was to stand in front of the mirror, scold himself a motherer, and if possible, he would shoot himself with a gun.

             How much time is needed to find back the happiness that they used to have?

             How many regrets will there be before he could hold her hand again?

             He looked at their photos in his phone and all the text messages. Everything was so sweet and lovely.

He hugged the pillow that has her scent.

             He kept all the movie tickets of the past movies that they watched together.

             He only hopes that in her heart, she doesn’t forget him, doesn’t hate him, and doesn’t dislike him.

             Then, he will accept all of it.

             You’re the king, but I’m not the queen. Her words linger in his mind.

             Don’t go.

             Let this goodbye be the last love.

             He lost her.

Story inspired from a song by a Taiwanese singer, <谢和弦 ft. 李佳薇 - 不爱，也是爱我>