Is there a point to life?

The day passes so slowly… so meaninglessly.

I can only lay here.

And stare at my picture collection – of carousel horses and Ferris wheels.

They're just so magical… beautiful…in a wistful way.

I'm too old for fairy tales.

I know they don't exist.

Prince Charming won't come riding on a gallant white horse and whisk me away.

But somewhere deep inside my heart, there's still a little voice calling out, wishing for the perfect guy.

And I met him…

He was my dream come true.

He liked to wear white shirts.

He kept two pots of sunflowers on his windowsill.

He always held my hand when we crossed the street.

I called him my sweetheart.

Three hours ago, I broke up…with him.

I'm waiting for him to come back.

But I'm only going to wait for eight days.

I know that after eight days…

We could never go back to the way things were.

The memories…they fill me.

They fill me…

They consume me…

You like to drink coke with no ice.

You like to walk in the rain.

You like to…

I remember it all…

I remember it all.

Honey, what should I do?

I can't forget you.

I can't forget you.

They say a girl's heart is only big enough to contain one person.

For me, you've always been the only one.

But…I can't say the same for you…

This is like reaching the end of a movie.

The end.

Time to go.

And naturally, you leave.

And you will go on living…just like before.

And I'm left here all alone.

A long time ago, you liked to drink coke with no ice.

A long time ago, you were in love with me.

A long time ago, we…

We…what a nice word.

But it no longer exists…

No longer exists in my world.

***

Honey, did you know that our sunflowers died this morning?

Gone…it's all gone.

Even that last trace of you is gone…

Quite fitting isn't it?

It's day three.

And still.

No sign of you.

***

I chuckle as I read over these last few passages in my diary.

Oh, how silly I have been these past days…

Locking myself in my room and crying myself to sleep.

That wasn't going to bring him back to me.

There was only one way to do that, I realized.

***

That summer, we went to the carnival every week.

I remember the booth games.

You were an amazing tosser.

You'd win me the best prizes.

Though you'd complain about having to lug around the giant stuffed animal.

You were such a darling…

You were so sweet and caring…

What changed?

Why did everything have to change?

Why?

Why.

I remember the carousel.

I always chose the black horse with the lush red mane.

I rode in front.

You'd embraced me from behind.

For three wonderful minutes, while it spun and twirled all around,

I was Cinderella in my pumpkin carriage.

Knowing a prince was waiting for a dance.

Everything would be so wonderful…so perfect.

I remember the Ferris wheel.

You pointed out all the sights:

The mall, the ballpark, the cemetery, the university…

And the operator would yell at us when we let others get on first.

Because we wanted the car that would be at the top when the wheel stopped.

It's been said that couples who ride the Ferris wheel together will eventually part ways.

But if they share a kiss at the top, they can break the spell and be together forever.

When you left, I stopped riding the carousel.
Or rather…I'm afraid to ride it now.

Every time I watch the horses dance and spin with the music,

Pain pierces me.

I see the true symbolism now.

Love…

There will always be a beginning but no ending.

We'll always be searching…looking…chasing after it…

But happiness will always spin away…just out of reach.

I remember you didn't always ride with me.

Sometimes, you would stand outside and watch me.

I'd wave to you from my horse and you'd smile and wave back.

But as it turned the corner, you'd be blocked from my sight.

One minute I see you. The next, you're gone.

One minute I'm laughing and the next, I'm crying.

The carnival left in the fall.

All that remains are the dusty grounds…

And our beautiful memories.

It was the perfect place for us.

It will be the perfect place.

***

Yes, I had realized by this point what had to be done.

I had to get out…

I had to get out…

Day six.

I finally step out of the house.

The sun blinds me and I squint reflexively.

I stand there for a while.

Quietly watching the world from my doorstep.

The street is so empty.

My world is so empty.

Honey, you are on the bus with me today

You sit to my right.

Gently bobbing your head to the music blaring from your headphones.

You glance at me once.

I look back.

You look away.

No.

It isn't you.

It's just a boy wearing your scent.

Misty Night Zephyr.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

The smell envelops me and for a moment, I can feel you.

School.

I finally arrive at school.

It's been five days since I took sick leave.

I push you to the back of my mind.

I plaster on a smile as I look for my friends.

They don't know you.

They don't know you exist.

They know you.

You are their dream.

But you were my reality…once.

I spot my sister in the crowd.

Perfect hair, perfect face, perfect body, perfect grades.

Perfect everything…

She has it all.

But no…there's one thing she can never have.

You.

You, alone, chose me over her.

And I love you for it.

I'll never let you go.

***

Today was the seventh day.

You still haven't come back.

But it doesn't matter.

Tomorrow…tomorrow…

I have it beautifully planned out.

You will be walking out tired from your Biology lecture.

I will run into you and hand you a coke.

Then I will turn away.

You will chase after me.

I won't stop.

But you'll follow.

You've always loved my silence.

And there is only one place holy enough to break it.

We'll share all the regrets of the past week.

You'll let me sob and moan into your shoulder.

Finally, you'll silence me with a kiss.

Then…there will be eternal silence.

***

How do you keep someone eternally?

How do you hold on and never let go?

There's only one way to do it.

Only one way to make sure someone stays with you forever.

He'll never leave me.

Never…

I won't let him.

Today is day eight.

Today, you will come back to me.

And you'll never ever leave me again.

I wait.

I wait patiently for class to end.

I wait until the bell rings signalling the end of class.

I wait for everyone to leave.

I don't see you leaving.

So I enter the classroom in search of you.

You're sitting at the back of the room.

Engrossed in your own work, you don't notice me as I approach you.

The room is empty, except for you and me.

Alone…at last.

I run to you.

I hug you.

And I tell you how much I miss you.

I hand you a coke.

You take it and genteelly smile at me.

I get up.

I take your hand and you follow me.

We go out the back doors of the school.

Pass the parking lot.

Across the street, hand in hand,

Just like we used to.

We stroll lovingly into my sanctuary.

I tell you to sit on the ground and relax.

From my backpack, I produce a small shovel.

I begin to dig.

Slowly…but steadily.

The hole grows bigger.

The hole grows deeper.

And deeper…

And deeper……

And deeper………

Then suddenly, my shovel hits something.

I pry away the loose dirt.

And I see you down there.

Well…lots of yous.

There's the you who used to live next door to me.

There's the you who used to work at my favourite clothing store.

There's the you I met on my family vacation to France.

There are so many yous.

You all smile at me.

And I smile back.

I throw away the shovel.

And I reach for your hand.

You trustingly place it in mine.

And we dance.

It's a beautiful dance.

It's a beautiful day.

The sun shines brightly in the sky.

The wind blows by.

Singing our melody.

And when our dance is complete,

I take a bow, and you take a bow.

And I let go of your hand.

You fall back…

Into the hole.

Deeper and deeper you go.

Until you rest amongst the other yous.

Retrieving the shovel,

I slowly fill up the hole.

The mud covers you.

Inch by inch…

You slowly disappear from view.

But you are now forever mine.

***

There is a man out there somewhere.

He likes to wear white shirts.

He keeps two pots of sunflowers on his windowsill.

He always holds my hand when we crossed the street.

He exists. I know he exists.

There must be someone like this somewhere.

And I call him my sweetheart.