Elly Grey

 Take photos and record videos of the people precious to you. Capture moments. They don't have to be staged moments, but real, candid ones. One day, you'll want to find and watch them because that's all you'll have left. And it'll break your heart that there won't be anymore.

 Some days I can't breathe.  And I don't know who to tell.  I don't know who to call and alleviate my ache with.  But I so want to tell someone, that I am a person who aches. I have my illnesses, my pain.  I too need someone beside me, to hold onto me and tell me it'll be ok. 

 And there will be promises that were not kept and dreams left unfulfilled. There will be nights where you will wonder where everyone has gone. And you will pray for calm and peace within, and ask that tonight, the ghosts will not play and allow you to sleep. 

Sometimes I wish I could go back to this time. The sounds, the songs, that time of the afternoon, at home safe and happy. A repetitive familiarity. A numbness, a boundary. No need for wanting to be older, because I was a kid and this was all I knew. Food made by my mum; all I had to do was eat it. There was nothing more to do but to laugh and wait for the next cartoon show to play.

 I will die yearning for him and, the Kambakht, will never know

When I know deep down there's nothing.  Nothing to take.  Nothing to give.  Why do I still wait? 

 Three wishes entangled in one.  I wish for You.  I wish for You.  I wish for You.  Wait, that counts as one?  I wish for You. I wish for You. I wish for You. I'm really bad at this... Wishing sucks.  Please just come. 

 I don't know if I love a sunrise more, or a sunset? Sunrises do seem to take forever and sunsets are swift. Either way, it's a salutation. A bonjour or an adieu. A beginning or an I'll miss you.

One step forward, Two steps back.  It's about trust... Or the lack of it. 

 The days we don't talk, gosh, they are so long and lonely. 

 "Take your glove off" "Why??" "Because I'm going to hold your hand and I don't want to hold your glove"

And the days we don't talk, I , uneasily, realise that life is so damn short.

Do you know what I wish for? I wish for it to be too good to be true.

 And at the back of the cupboard, she saw the blue bottle. She hesitated, but then got it out. Again, another pause, because she knew if she opened it, it would take her back. Holding it up to the light, she could see there was a little bit of perfume left. She unscrewed the lid and took a deep breath in, holding it to her nose. She held the bottle there for a moment and inhaled again, closing her eyes. It was the fragrance she had gifted him all those years ago. He wore it all the time. It was him, it was made for him. She slowly recapped the lid and put the bottle back into the cupboard. It was going to stay there. There was no other place for it to be. 

 "How close can you come?" "How close do you want me to be?....Here? Or here?" "Mmm ...so close, that a breeze cannot pass between us. That close, that our entwined hands look as one. Close, so that our breathing is synchronised. Close, that you know my next thought. That close, that when I look at you, you're already looking at me".  "Come here".