My Name Is Memory

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"There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!"

•°•°•°•°•

To the one from the star,

Things were great for a while. I'd felt peaceful. My mind swarmed with flutters of enthusiasm every now and then. I enjoyed your company. I felt alive.

I wanted to live, again.

You'd changed me. No, not change. You showed me. You showed me how things could be different. You taught me how to dodge every attack life threw my way. You taught me how to be happy again.

And I was thankful. I knew I didn't have anything much to repay you with for your kindness...other than, perhaps, my love for you.

I loved you. I still love you. Wasn't that enough? Was that the reason why you left? I mean, you must be laughing from above just watching me write these letters. You know you won't ever read it. I know you won't.

Despite that, writing my feelings down -- those feelings that once had made flowers bloom, but now has carved a scar in my heart with its thorns -- anchors me to reality. It's a reassurance that happiness did exist, even though it was just a moment. One fleeting moment. Like a star shooting across the sky.

I remember that afternoon when you were walking me back from school. It was snowing. The earth was white; the sky the colour of quicksilver.

You'd held my hand. The spaces between my fingers were right where yours fit perfectly. We were passing by our neighbour Mrs Michelle's house who lived next door when you'd suddenly asked me, "How's your neighbour? Mrs Michelle, isn't it?"

I'd narrowed my eyes. "How'd you know?"

"Pumpkin, I background check every person who influences the life of my client."

Client. The most appropriate word, perhaps. Was I only a...a client to you?

"Client? I didn't even hire you for frick's sake! You just popped out of nowhere. We signed no agreement papers, nothing. I am not your client period!"

I probably sounded wounded. Tired. Or angry? Your bemused expression spoke tons.

"I thought I was your friend. I thought you were my friend," I'd continued in a low voice.
"Ah, no I didn't mean it that way I swear. I-"

"That's okay. Let's go home. I'm cold."

And you'd nodded and followed me to my house, Mrs Michelle long forgotten.

•°•°•°•°•

A/N

So what do you think is going on with the star? Why suddenly ask about her neighbour? Any theories? I'd love to know your thoughts EEEP! ❤

And stuff will be happening soon, y'all! 😉

Thank you so much for reading!

~Jenna