It’s been 20 years since I was fifteen. You promised to return one day. And I stay here like the helpless child who patiently waits for Santa sleigh. But time passes like pitching waves of high tides. I no longer dream because my days and nights have become immutable. What is left of our love, of our unforgettable moments? Colette, where are you? If you will not return, at least tell me. I will never be the one who dies of grief—grief of love that kills slowly. So, I will take the path that leads to nowhere while making our love story the most beautiful of memories.
Note: Ardain Isma is a novelist and editing manager at CSMS Magazine . He heads the Center for Strategic and Multicultural Studies. He also teaches Introduction to Research Studies at Embry Riddle University. To see his books, click here.
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