SANDARA POV

I haven’t seen the dragon for a month but not a day goes by that I haven’t thought of him. It seems that the 9 years I’ve spent missing him would continue ‘til eternity.

My life has been rolling monotonously. My parents enrolled me in a University abroad with a very good program for Literature.

 I would attend classes, meet a few people but not really making any friends. And yes, I still hang out in the library.

How does one forget? I even tried doing research in the library to no avail. It seems the brain has ways of making memories endure especially the sad ones.

 Hope I could let go of the sad memories and just keep the good ones. But I know it wouldn’t be possible. My good memories were mostly of Jiyong and the saddest was also because of him. 

And even if my brain would let me forget, will my heart be able to forget also?

It has been 6 months. Trying to make my resolve to move on, I joined a club called Young Poets’ Society. They meet weekly at a café and read their poetry in front of everyone.

I enjoyed attending their meetings. It made me feel better knowing that I wasn’t the only tortured person in the room. Many of the members also had stories to tell. I can see it in their eyes and I can feel it in their prose.

One of the members asked me to read a work of mine. Seeing I was always quiet. “Sandara, would you like to read one of your works? You’ve been a member for sometime and we would like to hear from you”

“Well, I’ll try. This is one of my earlier works. I hope you like it”

Wallflower

                                                          Everytime

She goes unnoticed.

                               Everytime

     The world passes her by.

                              She

   is drowned by the crowd.

                              She

 stays in the background.

                             Her voice unheard

                             Her presence unfelt

She is a shy beauty,

A wallflower

Sandara finished shyly.

“That was good” The others said. The club told her encouraging words. “But we can see you still have so much inside you. Loosen up and let it out.”

Later that night, I tried to think what to write. But Jiyong would not leave my mind.

Like desert to rain

Time and space has lost meaning

Do you miss me too