"Thank you for making my life here more bearable."
That is the last sentence that I wrote in the letter. It is for you. Yes, you. Maybe you never imagine how hard is it to reassemble all memories about us. Although it is not merely us, it is you and your friends, me and my friends and him. But still, there was us.
But now you said, "I will go back. In a week."
So what do you expect me to react? Do you think I ever rehearse this kind of situation in my life?
Now, I am sitting here. Facing the window, hoping all of this is just a story. I hope this one week period will remain as it is. I am scared facing the time when you said, "It is today. So, take care."
I planned to use sunglasses. I cannot show you my face. I love you... err, nope I do not. I do not know.
So how am I suppose to finish my crucial period here without you? I know you will face tougher time there. I know your family needs you. I know. I always know. But I cannot bear it.
I imagine looking at you in the airport, strolling for the last time into that check-in counter. Watching you facing backwards, smiling, and wave your hand. Perhaps you will smile as usual. I know you probably will. Maybe I will also smile. If I could.
So whatever future will bring you (and me), I always hope you cherish every moment of us. I never wish God to send you in my life. I also never wish God to separate us. But, I always wish happiness for you (for us).
Until today, I never imagine that you will say goodbye, because deep down in my heart, I wish you will stay. At least until I know how I define you in my life.
This is still far. We still have seven days. Seven days to imagine you will be here and I will not see you go. This is still a long way to go. So please, make it bearable for me.
-- Dedicated to one of my friends