A Piece of The Bridge

*please listen to Florence and The Machine – Cosmic Love while reading this short story

I left home. I didn’t know what to do. I left the person whom I thought was love of my life, because I knew he wasn’t someone worth fighting for. I don’t know where else to go. I don’t want to bury myself with all those sadness and disappointment. I walked down through the streets with my arms together. It was cold yet I had my gloves on.

People were walking by across me, beside me. Some with their family, being all happy, some with their lovers, some walking alone – like me. I also found some couple fighting and yelling at each other, I was them hours ago. On the other corner I saw an old couple who seems that they had been together for so long and yet they’re the most romantic couple ever. I saw a small girl eating her candy floss, she smiled at me, and she was the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.

I walked again with no direction.

I felt cold. Something was killing me. It was like my heart being ripped out of my chest. I wish I could stop breathing for once. I closed my eyes as my tears ran down my cheek. I opened them again. Feeling lost.

I put my hands inside my coat’s pocket, trying to feel warm. I stopped walking. Yet I found something else in my right pocket. Some sort of paper. I took the paper out and saw the photo booth picture of me and my only best friend who had always been there and who I just turned down today.

I realized he was the only person who cared for me. He was the only person who gave me all the comfort, even when I was sad, angry, pessimist, cynical, coupled up and single. Single… Even though I was single, I was happy to be around him, to be with my only best friend. I did not need anybody else other than him.

I gulped, trying to take in all the guilt. How I wished I never turned him down. How I wish I understand when he told me to look on the other side. How I wished I saw all those attentions he gave me.

I breathed heavily.

I was the love of his life all this time, and I was had turned him away.

I took out my cell phone; I tried to call him, but no answer.

I can’t let him go. Not this time. I have to repair everything I had done.

I ran. I ran rushing through all those people. I ran.

I came to the park where we used to come by and stop. I came to the cemetery where he used stay and just watch his mother tomb. I came to our favourite cafe where he used to drink latte. I came to the places where he used to visit but he wasn’t there.

Then I remembered the bridge. The bridge was his favourite place especially at night. No matter how crowded or silent it can be, it was always his favourite place. He said the bridge would always be the way he wanted to feel.

I ran again, to the bridge this time.

And I stopped at the end of the bridge as I saw him leaning towards the concrete of the bridge watching the dark water beneath it, watching the ferry boats that we used to spend our time in.

The bridge was quiet, calm and peaceful. He wanted to feel silence. He turned his head to me and knew I was there.

I walked to him, feeling hopeful that he would take me back.

He stood facing me as I reached him.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be happily engaged?”

“No. I turned it down. It wasn’t what I want.”

“But you were happy.”

“That happiness was delusional. I thought I was, but I wasn’t.”

He walked closely towards me, holds my face and kissed me, as I kissed back.

“Do I make you happy?”

“Yes, you make me happy.”

He smiles, as we kissed again.