hey stranger | g.w.

71

"gerard," i asked,

looking down the river underneath the abandoned bridge we're sitting at

"hmm?"

"remember when we talked about having a job?"

"hmm?"

"you told me that you're going through something,"

i looked at him right into his eyes,

"you've been busy helping me sort my life out that i forgot about yours"

"no, y/n, by helping you,

you helped me"

"no, gerard, helping me distracted you from thinking,

and distraction is just temporary,

would you let me to take my turn to help you?"

he said nothing

"tell me what's bothering you"

he looked at me,

his eyes with unknown depth met mine,

but the abyss of hazel is filled with sadness,

memories wanting to hold him back to the place,

his eyes is not sparkling, but twice as how it reflects before,

the salty liquid wanting to escape making his eyes reflective,

reflective that i can see myself through it

"i — i . . . " he spoke,

"i had a very important person to me and she forgotten about me,

it's not like those any cliché movies where the protagonist got an amnesia and realise how she love their male lead but,

i wish that's what happened,

she developed a severe emotional trauma,

trauma that hurts her so much,

that she chose to forget the everything that hurts her past,

including me;

that incident,

it makes us not more than just a stranger,

she looks at me like a stranger,

but i look at her like she's the most precious thing that god have ever created,

i look at her like she's a masterpiece hanged in an expensive art gallery,

and i'm just and aspiring artist who wants her to be mine,

i'm a stranger to her,

but to me, she's my paramour,

masterpiece,

precious,

world,

world that never noticed that i still exist,"