I was about to head upstairs to rest in my room but my feet seemed like they had a mind of their own. They stopped before I could even go to the stairs. I took a sharp breath before following what my heart wanted me to do. I went straight to the room where I took Alison. I stepped closer and quietly sat on her bed.
I was instantly reminded of the eighteen-year-old girl that I saw for the first time. Alison Flora Cabrera. I haven’t forgotten that name since that night in Rotterdam. Even the things she said were still fresh in my memory as if they only happened yesterday. She still had braces then. Her sun-kissed hair was braided and she was wearing an all yellow outfit that night which made her look all the more luminous in my eyes.
Through the years, I witnessed Alison’s changes. I’ve witnessed her bloom. I saw her become the woman that any parent and any boyfriend would be proud of. It was true that I followed her in the Philippines. I wanted to live in a place where I could hear her beautiful language every day. Alison’s world was a world where every single thing was strange to me. It was a place I never imagined myself living in. I never even thought I would survive being here. But because of her, I’ve gotten used to living here, to living in her world.
I studied not only the language but also the culture in Alison’s country. And I’ve learned to like it through the years. Maybe because it was Alison’s country, maybe because I liked everything that was connected to her, or maybe because I felt less lonely as I watch her from afar. I also familiarize myself with Bettina Sanchez’s works whom she admired so much because I wanted to understand the things she like. Most of all, I wanted to understand her dreams.
I buy the books she buys and read them in my free time. I try to eat the food she likes and the drinks she drinks. I also listen to the songs she often listens to. Through those small and silly things, I felt like I was having a taste of Alison’s life, like I was somehow connected to her. And every time a day would end and I’d realize that I actually spent the entire day just watching over her again, I would end up annoyed with myself for doing it. I’ve been beside her quietly for eight years and I still don’t understand why I do it.
But as I look at her now, I finally realized something.
Alison was special not because of the unbelievable light within her soul. But because she was like a resting place for me. She kept me sane. She kept my hollow heart beating. I felt like I could endure all the wounds and the bruises as long as at the end of the day, I would still get to see her.
I was about to caress her cheeks, but I held back and stood up. Theron was wrong. She was light, and I was darkness, pure darkness. “I’m sorry, Alison. I see you… and I see everything I want to have, but I could not.”
I was about to walk away when Alison moved and opened her eyes. She held the edge of my shirt. “Don’t go, Alexandros. Stay with me please.”
And then she fell asleep again. Before her hand could slip away, I caught it. I sat back on her bed and softly kissed her hand. Why can’t I say no to you?

(Alison)
I WAS panting when I woke up. I clutched my chest as Alexandros’ face crossed my mind. In my dream, I saw him wounded. There was so much blood in his winter clothes and in his hands. He seemed to be in an extreme pain.
In my dream, I saw how his tears fell. That was the first time I had a dream like that. I also heard him weep. And it made my heart ache so badly. It was also the first time that I felt this kind of pain. I never thought that someone else’s pain could affect me this much. I wanted to find out why he had that expression on his face, I wanted to know what happened, and where he got those wounds. But I was afraid. And it was not because of what I might discover.
I’m not afraid of Alexandros’ past. We didn’t get the chance to talk a lot, but I still believed in the goodness of his heart. What scared me was knowing that revealing the truth could make his wounds bleed all the more. And should they bleed again, I doubt if Alexandros would ever give me the chance to help him mend those wounds.
“I’m worried that you will answer family, friends, love, happiness, light, and tons of chances to live according to what you want. Because I’m just an asshole who happens to lack all of those things.”
I breathed heavily upon the thought. Until now, I could still feel the heaviness behind Alexandros’s voice when he told me those words. What happened in the past clearly crushed him. It crushed the hope and faith in his eyes.
And now, while I’m looking at the room where I’m in, I feel like I could still hear Alexandros’ loud and uncontrollable screams. They were echoing in the entire room. In every corner of this place, I could suddenly see his wounded face. And even the sound of his tortured moans. There was so much sadness and agony that could be detected in the four corners of this room.
I woke up in an unfamiliar place. I should be alarmed and scared. But aside from the pain and sadness brought by the images that I’m seeing all of a sudden, I don’t feel anything else. In fact, I feel safe and comfortable. Maybe because I was certain that this room was connected to Alexandros.