Day 6: Wednesday, 16.05 p.m.
It has been a long 7 days.
After sharing her eerie experience in the magic realm with the terrifying wolves, the ghost fell asleep and has been asleep since. It's not uncommon for her to take really long naps. Once she slept for two fortnights, curled up tightly in her bed, her hair tangled and barely breathing. It felt like time slowed down in the world, and she had nothing to wake up to, so she slept and slept until there was a reason not to.
Her presence, although feeble, gave me warmth. Our conversations, although rare, gave me hope. But as I sit here writing, I feel my hands fading away. I am fading away.
I tell myself there's so much in this world to look up to, and this is merely an illusion. But deep inside, there's this emptiness that is consuming me wholly. I envision it just like how the moon consumes the sun during the eclipse. Although, in mere minutes, the sun rises from the darkness, I feel there's no such future for me.
My sun is slowly dying, and I am a little afraid. Not at the prospect of darkness, but at the expanse of seeing my dandelions withering, my hope crumbling, and my only sweet memory fading. If I can't hold on to that memory, he too will disappear, just like me. He too shall cease to exist, just like me. He, too, shall never get to see snow. He, too, shall fade away without feeling love.
That is the only reason for me to fight this stifling darkness.
And this is my war, which I have to fight alone, but I do wish for someone to tell me it's okay and wait for my return.
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I guess that is a luxury I am not granted.
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