Blurry. 

The only word I could pull from my vocabulary to describe all I could see, all I ever could see. It's been this way since the person I cherished most, escaped my fingers. They told me he'd be alright. They told me everything would go back to the way it was before. 

They lied.

I have waited 365 agonizingly long days.. hoping. All I ever could do was hope. All that kept my heart beating was hope. Hope that what they had told me is the truth. Perhaps it was the truth at the time they reassured me. Now, all I know is love never lasts. Never. Quite depressing, I suppose. This whole lifetime has been that way, until he appeared and welcomed his warmth to me. I don't bother to look at his pictures, they work their way through my mind anyway.

Nothing deemed itself of importance anymore. As childish and selfish as it sounds, I speak of the truth.

Fighting. I fought the nightmares every night in my sleep. I fought to keep myself sane. Mentally fighting, although it doesn't seem like it, is much more difficult than a physical attack.

I remember. I remember everything the two of us experienced together. I remember the first day he entered my life. Captivation. He captivated me since day one. The most meaningful day of my life.

Loneliness. I shooed away anyone and everyone who meant something to me. I couldn't allow them to do something similar to me. I locked myself away from society. My parents would always be concerned about my condition. I bluntly told them it was nothing. Nothing at all.

Today is the day I will join my long lost romeo. Minho, I've missed you so much. Being alone isn't as peaceful as I used to think. These past months, my point-of-view has changed almost entirely.

Hastily, I picked up my mother's kitchen knife, stabbing my stomach nearest to my heart. My head became lighter, and the picture of my lover came into view.

I lay with a red, torn rose across my chest. Waiting to be by his side once again.