Because We Promised

You cannot die first. You cannot die now. For I, who dedicate her life to you, am in an ongoing sacrifice, which if you die will go to waste. And you would not want that. If you happen to be bitten by a spell of death—in the road, on the way home... As always, we will be chatting. We will be having a cheesy time. But the road is cruel, and the road is blind. It does not choose the wicked or the meek—just random people who fate tells to kill. And the television will be humming a song for a tragedy on the road which you tread. And you will stop to speak. And your phone will be unreachable. At the time you should have been home, I will ask your sister if you reached home. But you will not reach home. You will not be home. You will be in the miserable lump of earth and asphalt, and people will mourn for all of you, and mourning will all be their doing. The next day, I will learn about eveything. For the first time, my hunch will be proven correct. For the first, I was allowed to see the future. But I was not able to do anything. I cannot do anything against fate. I will rush to you. I will force your brothers and sisters to tell me where to go. I will plead to my parents and relatives to release me. I will grieve—nothing and no one can block my way to you. I will be led to you for whatever means. I will be with you. I will meet them, and they will not know who I am. I will not know how to introduce myself—am I friend, am I lover. But I will not go. I will stay. I will cry while I walk. I will cry for a lifetime. I will curse you at your funeral. I will tell you how idiot you are to leave me behind when you said we should pity the one who will be left. I will drain my energy by yelling and begging your family to open the box. Maybe that way you might hear me cry. I will embrace your corpse and kiss your lips for the last time. And I will curse you—you damned thing who ruined my dreams. I will stay. Unlike you, I will stay until your last day above the surface of the earth. I will watch you sink, with half of myself which I can never get back. I will go home. I will not start a new life. I never want to forget. When you leave, take everything. Do not leave anything which will hold me back. Ack... I forgot... I buried half of myself with you. I will be incomplete for a lifetime. That will be the time my parents will understand love. That will be the time they will either speak words of encouragement, or never speak anything at all. But I tell you, I will close my heart, for it only belongs to myself and you... for a lifetime. I will meet graceful people and men of fame and fortune. They will woo me with flowers, chocolates and serenades—flowers that cause hassle to bring, chocolates I am allergic to, serenades with songs of other people... they will not know why I accept but never reciprocate. Because I want to receive little flowers I can flatten in a book, chocolates I can eat with the one who gave the gift, and poems instead of serenades. Even if they court my parents, they will never achieve the love I want... because only you can give that. I will build my dream house and move my family there. My room will be a bit larger, everything for two. My brother will borrow the books, and his children will sometimes sleep with me in my big bed... but I wish it was you who will read the books I bought and sleep with me and our children. Our common friend will warn my high school classmates to never mention and never ask about my love life, because that would mean an insult and I will walk out. The children of the orphanage and my scholars, and my brother's children, they will all ask me why I never married. And I will tell our story. It's because you're so dumb. You killed my dreams. Those two years of waiting became four, eight, 16, 32... you didn't become my boyfriend! That will remain "future" forever. Ack... so forever exists? Because I was not able to realize the dream, the future "girlfriend" never stepped upward. I only want to be with you. But then you left. Well, I am also an idiot and a dumbass. I blame you, but you cannot be blamed with something that you did not do. It was not you who killed you—it was destiny. Destiny should be the one to be blamed. The children will tease me, that I will die untouched. That will make me happy. For one reason, the only one I want to marry is dead, so of course I cannot marry. I have to die first to meet him. Yet, I do not believe in afterlife. When the redemption comes, all souls will be judged, and the qualified will float. If we happen to meet in heaven, you will wonder who I am, I will wonder who you are, and our only concern is to praise the Lord forever. We cannot marry there. Everything on earth will be under oblivion... everything will be forgotten--dreams, memories, love. Dakara, stay.