A Last Perfect Hello

It was nearly sundown that I was seated by a window in a certain cafe.

All alone but wasn't lonely.

The atmosphere inside was embraced by a deafening silence, and yet it wasn't sad. I found the silence soothing instead; thinking I was all away from noise, away from worries, away from pain.

I then satisfied myself with the scent of the afternoon: the aroma of my coffee that had been accompanying me throughout that time—wafting around, satisfying my nostrils as it warmed my once cold heart.

That afternoon must've been perfect, not until a music played that dragged me back to the agonizing days I've went through.

Baffling me were memories that I don't have time to look at one by one. Everything came flashing spontaneously that bombarded my mind.

It was an agony. A torment. And the saddest part of it was, It felt like everything just happened yesterday. But, no. It's been three years.

The wounds I thought were already healed were opened yet again.

I still couldn't believe three years ago I met a guy who lived inside obscurity. His world was all dark—darkened by the people around him. To be left, misunderstood and forgotten. We've all felt that, I suppose. First thing I've felt for him was compassion, I'd been eager to help him out of that darkness. I stood like a light for him. Prompting him till he started moving on and shed light for himself.

It was the best I could give him.

At first I was delighted to witness him coping up, to see him moving out from the obscurity, and to hear him laughing once again. Those smile were priceless. A smile I could bring myself to kill just to witness once more.

Love, was it?

It took me weeks to reconsider everything. I couldn't admit I was falling for him. Not when it's all too late.

He told me he wanted a girl.

The one with the long hair, fair skin and tall—the perfect girl according to him.

I felt sorry for myself, I was sorry it wasn't me. I knew all along I wasn't perfect but I couldn't do anything when he wants the best thing. I've done my best but funny, it wasn't still the best for him.

The thread of my thoughts snapped, interrupted by the chiming of the bell once someone stepped inside the cafe.

It was him, walking towards me with his sweetest smile. Though I know, the reason behind his smile wasn't me. It could never be.

To this young man's eyes, I could never be perfect. To this young man's heart, I could never fit in. By the way he stood a meter from me, It all felt empty. Have you ever felt that bizarre feeling? To have a person next to you, and yet it felt more like he's gone ten miles away from you.

"You look so upset." He teased.

I smiled.

I've called him that very afternoon to give my last attempt of being perfect. I suppose this is the only thing that an imperfect lady can spare to a person who seeks perfection.

A last perfect hello.

__________________________END_____________________________

Ps. This is inspired by a song.