PRINCESS
Days turned into weeks, and the passage of time blurred into a monotony that I could hardly distinguish. The shop had become a sanctuary of sorts, a place where I could lose myself in the routine of shuffling cards and arranging trinkets. Kat had been around less frequently, her life revolving around her new relationship, and I couldn't blame her. Everyone deserves happiness, after all.
It was a rainy afternoon when CJ walked into the shop again. The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up from the counter, my heart sinking as I saw him standing there. His presence was a stark reminder of the universes I had tried to leave behind, the countless realities where I had lost him over and over again.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain tapping against the windows.
"Hey," I replied, my voice equally soft. I didn't ask why he was here. I didn't need to. The look in his eyes told me everything.
We stood there in silence, the air between us thick with unspoken words. I could feel the familiar ache in my chest, the emptiness that had become a constant companion. I knew what was coming. I had seen it in every universe, every reality. This was inevitable.
"I... I don't love you anymore," CJ finally said, his voice breaking the silence like fragile glass shattering on the floor.
I nodded, my expression unreadable. "I know," I whispered, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. I had been preparing for this moment, even if I hadn't realized it. In every universe, I lost him. This was no different.
CJ looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and relief. He had expected a reaction, maybe anger or tears, but I had none to give. I was empty, a hollow shell of the person I used to be.
"Take care of yourself, Princess," he said, turning to leave. The door closed behind him, and I was left standing there, alone once again.
I watched his retreating figure through the rain-streaked window, memorizing every detail of his face for the last time. The way his hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck, the determined set of his jaw, the way his eyes, usually so full of life, now looked hollow and distant. It was as if I was trying to etch every detail into my memory, knowing this would be the last time I would see him.
The rain fell harder, the sound becoming a relentless drumbeat against the glass. Each drop seemed to echo the pounding of my heart, each one a reminder of the love that was slipping through my fingers. I pressed my hand against the window, feeling the coldness seep into my skin, mirroring the icy emptiness inside me.
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision until all I could see was a hazy silhouette of the man I had loved in so many lifetimes. My throat tightened, and a sob escaped my lips. I had been holding it in, pretending to be strong, but now that he was gone, the facade crumbled.
I sank to the floor, the weight of the loss crushing me. The shop, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison. I could feel the walls closing in, the air thick and suffocating. I hugged my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth, trying to find some semblance of comfort in the darkness.
The rain continued to pour, the storm outside mirroring the tempest within me. I closed my eyes, letting the tears flow freely, each one a testament to the love that had been and the love that was now lost. I knew I would never forget him. His face, his voice, his touch would haunt me for the rest of my days.
But for now, in this moment of heartbreak, all I could do was grieve. Grieve for the love that had been torn away, for the future that would never be, and for the piece of my heart that would forever belong to CJ.
After he left, I moved out of my shop, leaving behind the memories that haunted every corner. I found a small apartment near Baclaran Station, the place that had once been my portal to countless realities. It felt fitting, in a way, to return to the place where it all began.
The apartment was small and sparse, but it was mine. I spent my days wandering the streets, the familiar sights and sounds of Baclaran a constant reminder of the life I had tried to escape. The smell of street food, the chatter of vendors, the distant rumble of the LRT—it was all a part of me now. Every corner of the city echoed with fragments of my past, each sound and scent a ghost of what once was, a cruel reminder of the happiness that slipped through my fingers.
One evening, as I was walking back to my apartment, I noticed a stray cat sitting on the steps of the station. Its fur was matted, and it looked up at me with wide, curious eyes. I crouched down, reaching out a hand, and the cat cautiously approached, nuzzling against my fingers.
"Hey there," I whispered, my voice gentle. "You look like you could use a friend."
The cat meowed softly, and I scooped it up, holding it close as I made my way back to my apartment. I named it Hope, a bitter irony that wasn't lost on me. Hope had eluded me in every universe, but maybe, just maybe, I could find a semblance of it in this small, furry creature.
Days turned into weeks, and Hope became my constant companion. The apartment felt less empty with her around, and I found a strange comfort in her presence. She would curl up on my lap as I sat by the window, staring out at the bustling streets below. The world moved on, indifferent to my pain, but in those quiet moments, I felt a flicker of something I hadn't felt in a long time.
But the sadness remained, a heavy weight that pressed down on me every day. I missed CJ, missed the way his eyes lit up when he smiled, missed the sound of his voice. I missed the warmth of his embrace and the sense of safety it brought. The void he left behind was a chasm that seemed to grow wider with each passing day. But I knew that holding onto those memories would only bring more pain. In every universe, I was destined to lose him. This was my fate.
One night, as I lay in bed with Hope curled up beside me, I found myself thinking about the stairway at Baclaran Station. The temptation to drop a coin and escape to another reality was strong, but I knew it wouldn't change anything. I would still be the same broken person, still carrying the same pain. Each universe was a reflection of my inner turmoil, a never-ending cycle of hope and despair.
I closed my eyes, letting the darkness envelop me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I didn't bother to wipe them away. I had cried so many times, in so many worlds, and each tear felt like a piece of my soul slipping away. The weight of my sorrow seemed to crush me, making it hard to breathe.
"Why do I keep hoping?" I whispered to the empty room. "Why do I keep believing that things will get better?"
Hope stirred beside me, her soft purring a small comfort in the overwhelming darkness. I reached out, stroking her fur, and she nuzzled against my hand.
"Maybe... maybe it's not about finding happiness," I said softly. "Maybe it's about finding a reason to keep going, even when everything feels hopeless."
Hope meowed in response, and I smiled through my tears. In every universe, I had lost him. But maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to live with that loss. Maybe I could find a way to keep going, even when the weight of the world threatened to crush me.
I took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill my lungs. The sadness was still there, a constant companion, but for the first time in a long time, I felt a flicker of something else. It wasn't hope, not exactly, but it was enough to keep me going.
The nights were the hardest. The darkness seemed to amplify my loneliness, each hour stretching into an eternity. I often found myself lying awake, replaying our last moments together in my mind. His words echoed in the silence, a haunting melody that refused to fade. I wondered if he ever thought of me, if he missed me as much as I missed him.
And maybe, in this universe, that was all I needed. Not the grand, sweeping joy of fairytales, but the quiet resilience to face each day, one at a time. Maybe in these small moments of perseverance, I could find my own version of hope. The pain of losing him would never disappear, but perhaps, with time, it would become a part of who I was—a testament to a love that, despite its end, had made me stronger.
And as I lay there, with Hope nestled beside me, I realized that maybe, just maybe, this broken heart could still find a way to heal.
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