sekaih @ sekaih.tumblr.com
December 2016
It's still there. The bench where he had craving their names. Stands with strength that makes him green with envy.
Their names stays there endlessly, up to the expectation just like when he took his knife out of the pocket and painted their names in it.
He had told him that it was stupid idea. They did not need some evidence or monument to remind each other of the love they've shared.
He was wrong, and so he. Not even endless night of love and colorful days of teasing was saving them from that mistake.
They lost themselves, slipped between their own fingers, drained with the snows that dropped into the river and washed away.
He came to the bench that day after he left.
Tried his best to erase the scratch, crying all the way.
But the wood was more stubborn than him.
"No one is more stubborn than you."
He closes his eyes. Four years and life is still cruel at him.
This is me swallowing my pride
Standing in front of you, saying I'm sorry for that night
And I go back to December
It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you
- Back to December (Taylor Swift)
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