This is me letting you go

I walked down the slanting steps leading to the living room. Behind deep woods of trees, the sun, as orange as a gigantic persimmon, slipped its last rays through the branches and poured the golden liquid onto the wooden floor. It’s been quite a while since I’d last had the opportunity to see a sunset. So instead of going to the library where I could stay alone for a few minutes, I sat down, hot cranberry tea in hand, bathing in the warm light. It was so breathtaking that I told myself, why stuck up in miseries and not appreciate this little happiness offered to you?

“The best things in life, they are free.”

Are they?

“But if you wanna cry, cry on my shoulders. If you need someone, who cares for you. If you’re feeling sad, your heart gets colder…”

Yes, I “should” be happy. And no, why can’t I even have the right to be sad?

My eyes got watery from staring at the sun sliding down between the trunks when from nowhere you appeared. Your voice soft and your composure calm. I knew, I knew you were trying to gently enter my bubble so as not to startle me, and to draw me out of sadness. The same way you had once calmed me down when I’d seen how harsh and brutal you could be. You spoke of this and that, in order to keep me distracted from the pain. Please, don’t be so tender, I might fall for you again. For all I knew, if you cared, my heart would get mellow. And if you joked around and made me laugh, I’d forgive you for everything and anything. But your thorns are too sharp they made me bleed.

I couldn’t afford it anymore. I couldn’t be greedy and hold tight onto something that’s not meant for me. There is no such a thing called “right person, wrong time”. The right person at the wrong time is actually the “wrong person”.