it's always been a confetti, isn't it?

this life we called huge. with rocky roads and sparkling rivers to guide you with colors drifting by, fragments of a lost romance. once they flew with laughter's cheer, now they land on quiet fear. each piece a memory, soft and torn, serene and screaming. we reach to hold them, but they fall. it's always like that.

just as how much her heart belongs to you. she had all and then most of you. some and now none of you. still, she wanted to take a piece, just this once, just a small piece. and yet you took a piece of her instead, and cherished it. kept it close. kept it warm. loved. cared. seen. she's bound to you. all she need is you to wait for her and she'll be there, running to you.

she's here. always had been. and she doesn't know what she's supposed to do, haunting you like this. it was meant to be this way, it will always end up this way. there's no other ending, no author to rewrite the story. she couldn't move on. not like this. never like this. she wanted this, but this is fate. and it hurts.

it hurts so much seeing you alone like that. crippled on a wheelchair, fiddling on our silver wedding band, staring off nothing while she's there. a nothing but a ghost.