Arrivederci || Dan Heng [✓ ]

⋆ ✦ ˚｡ Part twenty-seven˚｡⋆

I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the tension in my muscles ease. The unsettling nightmare was slowly ebbing away, replaced by a sense of tranquility as the morning light filtered through the window.

With a sense of purpose, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The floor was cool against my bare feet as I padded across the room. My computer sat on the desk, its screen still lit from my late-night study session. I glanced at it for a moment, resisting the urge to turn it on and dive back into my work.

"I just got up, schoolwork is ass anyways," I muttered under my breath, sighing heavily.

Instead, I walked over to the window, drawn by soft lighting of the sun. It was a sight I often overlooked, lost in my own thoughts and responsibilities.

I turned away from the window, my eyes landing on the stack of old movies sitting on the shelf. They were the only connection I had to which I dreamed—the past I wanted to see for myself.

So captivated through the stories on those fragile discs, a part of me longed for that simplicity. That sense of connection to a world I had never known.

In a way, those movies were a bridge between the past and the present.

Oddly enough, the prospect of reading felt more appealing than turning on the television. My attention was drawn to a book sitting at the corner of my nightstand, exactly where I had left it the previous night.

With a faint smile, I picked it up, my fingers gliding over the synthetic cover. My touch grazed past the title—but more importantly I stared at the name of who wrote this piece of literature.

'Lunae'

I'd always wondered who he was. It was an alias, and the true name of the author was never revealed. But I desperately wanted to know what kind of person he was, to have written such deep poems—the type of poems that never leave your head, and that become etched in your heart.

I always thought it a mystery I would never figure out though.

The cover itself was simple, yet there was something about it that always drew me in. It was my favorite book, a treasure I returned to often for solace and reflection.

As I opened it, the familiar scent of its pages wafted up to greet me. I settled back against the pillows, the world around me fading as I delved into its contents. Something about haikus felt like a small, delicate world of its own, capturing emotions and experiences in just a few carefully chosen words—that's what made them so special to me.

I traced the lines of one particularly poignant haiku,

Guiding stars unseen,
Whispered echoes in the dark—
Lost, yet not alone.

My eyes caught another on the page,

Past and present merge,
Lessons learned, futures embraced—
Eternal echo.

And then another,

Joyful laughter heals,
In camaraderie's warmth—
Grief finds gentle peace.

And another,

Guiding whispers soar,
Teacher's wisdom, a beacon bright—
Lost path finds its way.

Then finally,

The wind blows the grass,
A one in a million chance—
Time waits for no one.

I always came back to the last poem. I wasn't sure what was so alluring about it, or what about it I found relatable—but o just really liked it.

Time waits for no one. The truth of those words reverberated within me. It's a reminder that life was fleeting, but also that opportunities slip through your fingers like grains of sand.

I closed the book gently, placing it back on the nightstand. It truly was on of my greatest treasures.

In moments when I felt most alone, as I do now, and the weight of the world pressed down on my shoulders, I still had these words. Somehow, in some way—they kept me going.

But wallowing too much in my own thoughts is silly.

I stood up purposefully and left the room, remembering my untouched breakfast. Downstairs my mother's meal, though probably cold due to my delay, awaited.

I would be a fool to not enjoy this last meal, as tomorrow I will be left to my own accord.

And hopefully I will fill the void of uncertainty that I had been carrying the day I was born—since the day that I realized I was truly alive.

Just what do I want to do with my life?

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╰┈➤ UNEDITED ✦

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A note found on your desk

ᴮⁱᵍ ˢⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ
ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴹʳ ˢᵛᵃʳᵒᵍ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ...ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵃᵈ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ?! ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃⁱⁿᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉᵈ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ?! ( TДT)
ᴬⁿʸʷᵃʸˢ ... ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵐⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ . . . ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ!

ᶜˡᵃʳᵃ  ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

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