The city lights that taint the barren night sky smears across the glass windows of the car as it zooms through the busy streets. The roads are filled with vehicles travelling from one direction to another, the sidewalks loaded with an ocean of people as they walk with and past each other, hustling and bustling as they rush on their feet having only one goal in mind---to go home. 

Stuck in the middle of heavy traffic, it’s easy to get trapped inside the cells of your thoughts, staring into the bottomless chasm. Despite the burden that being in a jam carries, it forces you to watch the movie that plays from the other side of the car window, pushing you to have an indirect connection with people---mere strangers rushing in and out of convenience stores, students racing to catch the bus home, restaurant owners welcoming off-work customers. 

Nadech releases a heavy sigh, his chest heaving up and down. Just as he shifts his gaze to the red light above, it quickly changes into a bright  hue of green. Instantly, he steps on the gas and expertly maneuvers his steering wheel to run his car fluidly through the rest of the vehicles, smoothly making his way home. 

The trip to his unit on the eleventh floor of the massive complex is quiet, finding himself idly leaning against the metal walls of the elevator as he loses himself in the quietude, staring blankly into what seems to be an endless oblivion. His reverie is prematurely disrupted at the sharp ding! accompanied by the rash split of the metal doors in front of him. 

Letting the faint echo of the elevator bell ring in his ears, he pushes himself off against the wall, taking massive strides out and into the empty hall. The sound of his heavy footsteps bounce off the walls as he takes slow yet domineering steps. Reaching the front of his door, the shrill sound of his security lock echoes as he punches in his code, pushing open the door. 

He releases a long sigh that equates to the long day he had at work as he enters, his head tilting from side to side in hopes to reveal some of the pressure over her muscles. 

“You’re here!”

The mere sound of the familiar voice quickly changes his demeanor, turning his timid frown upside down. He looks forward, his eyes darting towards the window where she stands, clad in her favorite white dress, hair cascading freely down her shoulders that reached the small of her back. 

“Yaya,” he mutters, walking closer, eyes fixed on her. 

“Have you had dinner?” She asks with that cheerful voice of hers, a cheeky smile stretching over her face as she skips across the living room towards him. When she reaches him, she stands just a foot in front of him and grins, looking up at him like an excited school child. 

Nadech chuckles, tilting his head as he looks at her with so much adoration, the warmth in his eyes glowing like the summer sun. 

“Your mom left some food,” she mutters as she walks alongside him, “it’s in the microwave.” 

“Hmm,” Nadech only hums, watching her carefully as she trudges over to the other end of the long dining table, taking a seat to watch him as he eats. 

“Is it good?” She asks, propping her chin over her hands as she watches him eat, her eyes glow glistening under the dim kitchen lights. Nadech can only nod as he stares at her, transfixed at her eternal glow that made her seem to be one with the stars and the play of colors from the city below that reflected on the massive windows. 

He could never really take his eyes off of her then, and more so now. It’s like he savors every second he gets to see her, memorizing every bit of her, imprinting her bright smiles and round doe eyes, taking a record of her sweet voice and melodious laughter. 

“Your mom misses you, you know,” she mutters, turning to him as they both lay flatly in bed, staring at the blank ceiling above. These are how most nights go when she visits. She watches him eat, asks him about his day, and sits with him throughout an episode of a show he barely even likes. Somehow he only puts up with it for the sake of having her with him a little longer. And after all of that, they stay in bed for who knows how long—his favorite part—listening to her ramble about almost anything, what she has done and the things that she could have. 

Nadech takes in a deep breath and releases it with a heavy sigh, pursing his lips into a thin line as he nods thriftly. 

“Hmm,” he turns his head to look at her, “I should visit,” he mutters, and Yaya smiles at him, nodding her head as she rolls to lie on her stomach, chin lodged over her palms. 

“Nadech,” she starts, tilting her head as she presses her cheek against her hand. “When will you paint me a picture?” She asks wholeheartedly. 

Nadech bites his bottom lip and sighs through his nose, looking at her intently. In every angle he looks at her, she looks like heaven personified, a mystic piece of the cosmos that graced the earth and showed him enough mercy to allow him to let his gaze linger on her. 

He forces out a small smile. 

“Soon.” 

Yaya smiles at him, looking at him with so much adoration and warmth. “I can’t wait,” she mutters before she pushes herself up and makes her way towards the door. “Good night, Bear,” she says softly, blooming out a garden of warm smiles. 

He smiles at her, following her with his hooded eyes as he blows a kiss towards her, his hand landing harshly on the bed.

She frequently visits him these days. He’d find her cross-legged by the window where she usually reads or paints, leaning against the sills as she peers over the city below. She once said she loved looking at the ant-sized world from above, watching them closely as if it was a movie—one of reality. 

More and more often, she reminds him of his mother, of how he needs to visit. She convinces him to attend his company dinners, to go to his friends’ birthday celebrations, even casual parties. And yet every time he asks her to come with him, she refuses. It’s either she can’t, or the usual “you need to have fun with your friends, you won’t give them attention when I’m with you.”

He understands her though, and he understands what she’s been trying to do. He’s never been oblivious of the messages she’s been trying to send. 

She mentions about the warm sand and the cold water of the beach time and time again, saying how much she wishes to have her picture painted by the ocean, where the wind blows against her face, blowing her hair. 

She’s ready, she has been for a long time. 

And as he takes up her requests to join his friends, he slowly regains the joy of being with other people, enjoying other people’s company. He had started to visit his mother on weekends, joining his family for lunch, and sometimes even for dinner. There are days when he’d stay the night, or maybe even a few days when his mother tries to cling to him more than she usually does. 

The people around him had noted more frequently how much they missed him, and how glad they are that he’s back to his old self. And though he doesn’t want to accept it as fast as the people around him, he sees the change in himself. A long day after work seems less tiring, the smile on his face stays a little longer, and dinners alone when she doesn’t visit seem less lonely.

Even the hour-long traffic didn’t seem so crucifying. The appeal of the city lights had returned to him, and the air around him had become easier to breathe. 

The cravings had started to tone down, and the intense longing had begun to subside.

However, every time he remembers the implications of getting his old self back, he slightly sinks back into a state of melancholy. Being able to find his own sunshine again means losing the sun he’s been keeping to himself for so long.

And no matter how much he denies it, he’s ready, not ready as much as her, but ready enough. 

“Does it still hurt?” Yaya asks as she enters his closet, watching his reflection on the mirror as he runs his hand over the scar on his chest. Meeting her eyes with his as he looks up, he smiles, turning around to face her fully. 

“Not anymore, only sometimes when I remember,” he says. 

Yaya smiles, taking a step closer. “Then you should remember less,” she says, her eyes—big and brown, eyes that he loved so much because they carried an ocean of emotions and told stories of all sorts—looks beyond his and caresses the inner depths of his soul. 

“How could I possibly do that?” He almost whispers, his shoulders giving into the pull of gravity. 

Yaya only smiles. “You know what to do,” she says with gentle tenderness in her voice. 

Nadech stares at her with awe and genuine admiration, taking every bit of her entirety all in, and he nods his head, letting out a smile. 

“Do you want to go on a trip today? I’ll paint you a picture by the ocean.”

Yaya’s face brightens up, a wide smile stretching over her lips as she looks at him with so much adoration and warmth. She tilts her head, eyes fixed on him, nodding softly as she mutters a soft yes. “I would love that,” she says. 

The drive to the beach was quiet. Oddly enough, despite her favorite music blasting out of the speakers, it felt quiet. Yaya sat wordless in the front seat, head leaning against the window as she looked out. Multiple times when he decides to steal a glance at her, he finds her looking at him with a warm smile and a certain look of adoration in her eyes. 

Nadech chuckles as he watches Yaya run to the water, her giggles echoing and harmonizing with the melody of the calm waves crashing against the shore. He steals glances at her as he sets up his easel, tearing open a fresh new blank canvas. As he sits down on his stool, he releases a heavy breath, peering over Yaya who is walking along the shore with the sand on her feet and the wind blowing against her hair. 

Biting his bottom lip, he picks up his brushes and begins to paint. 

It’s like his hands, his heart, and his mind are all in sync, dancing in perfect choreography and rhythm as he paints with everything in him. He glances at Yaya everytime she releases a stream of laughter, dancing along with the wind as it blows against her golden sun kissed skin. 

He continues to paint, his every brush stroke like a well-choreographed ballet, and just as he comes to a finish and he finally sees the picture on the canvas, he realizes that he’s been shedding a storm of tears. 

With a pained sob he closes his eyes, letting his hot tears cascade down his cheeks. 

After so long, and maybe for the last time, he relives the dark night and the aggressive sounds of the waves. He relives what was once an engagement dinner above the sea and under the stars which turned into a nightmare he never ever imagined as the sky tore open and birthed a million flashes of fire, reeling in the tidal waves that pulled him away from the hand he held ever so tightly. 

As he lets out his tears, a breath escapes the back of his throat, when for the first time in forever, he feels her. 

“Hey,” her voice is like sweet honey, flowing smoothly into the air. It seems like a thousand years since he felt her touch, and when she cups his face and runs her thumb over his cheeks to wipe his tears, a shaky breath escapes his lips along with a whimpered sob. 

When he opens his eyes, he sees her eyes, glowing at him, coupled with a warm smile. 

“What took you so long?”

He lets out a smile, sobbing as he lets her hold him, basking in her touch that he had missed and craved for so long. He held her wrist, pressing his cheek against her palm. 

“I missed my bear, what took you so long to come back, hmm?” Yaya looks warmly down at him, running her fingers through his hair as she holds him close. 

It’s true. He’d been gone for so long. He had lost his entire self when he lost her, wandering in the dark oblivion, letting melancholy and grief eat him up, allowing the bereavement to consume his being. 

And yet, it is also through her that he managed to find his way back, to see light in the darkness, to find reasons to smile again and regain his true self. 

He had become her mission before she finally let go.

“I fear the day I’d break into a real smile and it’s not because of you. I’m afraid I’d find happiness without you,” he manages to say, his voice cracking as he breaks out into another orchestra of pained sobs. 

Yaya only smiles at him and pulls him into a hug, holding him tight. “It’s okay,” she whispers, “it’s okay to be happy without me. You need to be happy without me,” she pulls back and looks straight into his eyes, “be happy without me, I know you can.” 

“You can forget about me. You can be happy without me.”

Nadech shakes his head, a litany of sobs escaping his lips as he holds her tight. 

“It’s okay,” she cups his face again. “You can move on and live a life without me. I know you’re afraid, afraid of forgetting me,” she runs her fingers behind his ears, smiling at him with genuine sincerity. 

“But it’s okay,” her fingers run over his forehead, “this can forget about me,” she runs her fingers over his chest, “but this will never.”

“I may disappear, but I will always stay here,” she presses her palm against his chest, above his heart. “I will always stay here, you know that. You need to forget me to move on, but you can always revisit my place in your heart if you need me to remind you that you are loved, and that you are worthy, and that someone has loved you like you’re the world.” 

“It’s time to paint colors of your own, Bear,” she whispers. 

When he felt her lips against his, he felt like the sunshine had risen and the anchor that had been keeping him down finally got dislodged from the boulders that weighed over it. 

Her kiss is like a breath of fresh air, a promise of new beginnings, a sweet reminder of her love, and a bittersweet goodbye. 

Opening his eyes, he sees nothing else but the painting in front of him, a picture of her, looking at her with the most genuine warm smile plastered on her lips as she looks straight into his eyes.