The rusty guitar leans against the wall, a time capsule of memories from 2020. Dust motes float and shimmer in the sunlight, illuminating my glass butterflies, their iridescent, azure wings inviting me to dive into the past.
Back when days felt simpler. Back when I was still whole. Back when it did not feel like the stars and the moon were crashing down on me.
You taught me so much—how to draw, to read, to cycle, and, most importantly, to play the guitar. Now, it feels as though a chasm has opened in my heart. Some days, I feel like a crumbling castle; other days, like an ice-cold statue, indifferent and lost in limbo. Especially after that awful guitar competition, losing felt like a dagger piercing my heart, leaving a wound that throbbed with every beat. The songs I once adored now seemed tainted; their familiar melodies twisted into painful reminders of that moment on stage when my fingers faltered, and silence swallowed my hopes. Each note, once a spark of joy, now echoed with the weight of my disappointment, making it impossible to revisit the music that once flowed through me so freely.
I glance up at the ceiling, longing for a blue moon to change everything. Lying on my bed, the warm orange glow blurs, and I wonder if my eyes are betraying me. I need a pick-me-up, something to pull me back into the light, to get my life back together.
Suddenly, the lights turn blue.
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I'm in a car, the air-conditioning blasting, and there you are, driving your iconic midnight blue Hyundai.
"You're late again! Did you bring everything you need for the exam? Don't forget your seat number!" Your voice is a mix of urgency and love, your furrowed brow betraying your stress.
"Exams?" I stammer, confusion swirling in my mind.
"Your mock exams for your O Levels!"
I blink, trapped in a surreal moment. "Are you real, or am I dreaming?"
"Did that cookie you ate this morning jam up your brain? Wakie wakie, Giselle! You have to run to the lecture hall, you hear me?"
A smile tugs at my lips despite the chaos. It's just like you to push me, to remind me of the importance of seizing the day. I felt a small ray of sunshine blooming inside me like daisies. He's here. He's next to me, breathing and yelling at me on the importance of punctuality.
"Get out of the car! You can make it if you run!" you urge, your voice laced with encouragement.
I pouted. "I'm not a Ferrari, you know. This girl's got short legs, not wheels." But a hidden smile breaks through as I gather the courage to dash out.
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The interrogation begins as soon as I return home. "So, how did it go? Confident you'll pass?"
We talk and laugh for hours, and for a moment, it feels like a miracle. But soon, I find myself wrestling with the bittersweet reality of your absence. How can I live again when I feel so lost without you?
"Remember, sweetheart, the glory lies in picking yourself up after you fall," you once said, your voice echoing in my mind. "Learn to show up for yourself. Grow. See things in a different light."
But how?
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One sudden afternoon, news of the car crash near the festival came like a dark cloud, suffocating and relentless. I begged you not to attend that music festival. "I have a hunch that something bad will happen," I'd insisted, desperation clawing at my heart.
Now, tears streamed down my face as I cradled my head in disbelief. This can't be it.
Calming myself down slightly, I then sifted through your old trinkets, looking for something to anchor me. A familiar sight catches my eye—a signed music album from Laufey.
Inside, I found a voice recorder.
Curious, I clicked it.
"Hey, sweetheart. If you're listening to this, remember: Life's a lot like the clouds. Sometimes they block out the sun, but other times, they give way to the most beautiful blue skies. Just like flowers that bloom after the rain, our lives can bloom in unexpected ways. Remember, it's okay to feel lost sometimes. Growth comes from the rain, even if it's hard to see right now. I love you more than words can say. Keep dancing to the music, wherever it takes you."
As I listen, a flicker of memory ignites. Just weeks before the crash, you had excitedly shared your discovery of Laufey's music, captivated by its blend of jazz and modern pop. "It's like she captures the feeling of a rainy day," you'd said, your eyes lighting up with nostalgia.
You understood my passion for music, and perhaps this was your way of guiding me even now.
Moonlight dances off the pictures in the photo album as I drift into sleep, surrounded by Laufey's melodies. Life is fragile, and I miss you, more than the moon misses the sun. Each phase of the moon reminds me of our connection, its gentle glow a rhythmic heartbeat in the night sky.
But perhaps, just perhaps, I can learn to walk again, to find the beauty hidden in the shadows. The blue moon shines bright, illuminating a path forward. It almost seems like the moon is singing my favourite melodies to me.