When I gave you that little white flower, I cried.
I cried because I know it’s the first and the last time.
When I held your hand on that day, I cried.
I cried because they’re not the warm hands that I used to hold.
They were cold- just like how I felt the
sudden winter season in  my life
when I knew you already left.

Since that day, I know I became envious.

I envy the wolf to the moon,
the moon to the sky, and
the sky to the world. I envy all the things
you saw and you held before you left
and how I pathetically wish
that I were those and that I was there for you
on that day that you were waiting for me.

You’re the man that I really looked up to-  
just like those stars. Up there. I can see the smile
and laugh of a small man in his hat and a briefcase on his
right hand calling my name in his rough and husky voice.
And I longed for all our moments. And I will forever be.

So many things I should’ve said- but I didn’t.
So many times I should’ve spent with you- but I didn’t.
So many hugs and so many kiss that all turned to dust.
Regrets. Regrets. There’s more room for regrets.

When you gave me that hug before we departed, I cried.
I cried because I thought that would be the last. But then,
I looked at those stars and I felt this cathartic feeling that
you were there. You were one of them. You were just there all long.
Forever guiding me- giving light in my darkest paths.
Then, I smiled.