Sunday.

It was the day when you said goodbye.

Goodbye and you swore you’ll never go back again.

Again to caging your heart in a jail of negative thoughts.

Thoughts about how you mistook a blade for happiness.

Happiness… that you crave.

You crave for so long.

Long before you got used to sadness.

Sadness that now circles your heart.

Your heart… that survived the pain of going through a lot.

A lot of things…

Things that shouldn’t be carried by such a fragile part of the human body.

I wish I could go back to Sunday.

I wish I could go back to the moment few hours before you did it.

I wish… I wish I did something to stop you—

No, I wish I did more to save you.

I wish I could still paint you pictures of green grass swaying through the breeze of summer air back in April.

I wish I could still sing you songs about how great it was to come back home.

I wish you can still come back home,

But you can’t.

No matter how beautifully I sing, I cannot bring you back.

No matter how much I do…

How much I do to wind up the arms of the clock just to bring you close to me,

I know I can’t.

You’re gone.

For good.

In your own happy place.

You finally found your solitude in the arms of God.

How can I take that away from you?

Please be happy now.

You deserve it all this time.

I just wish I was enough to make you happy.

So that you’ll stay.

You wouldn’t have to go.

You wouldn’t have to leave.

You wouldn’t have to die.