I did not tell my friends,
when I met them after a long time,
that I recently had you cremated.
It is the thought of them being upset over it
that makes me feel ashamed of myself.
I have such good friends, you know.
When my dear friends asked me about you,
I told them how much I had enjoyed our honeymoon together
instead of telling them how I had scattered your ashes into the river
after they burned your flesh at the sacred field of the crematorium.
I didn’t tell them how I watched the smoke go up
high in the dark blue sky
and imagined your soul leaving your body
along with the burning fume.
I lied to them when I told them how you held me in your arms
while we both looked at the dreamy landscapes.
I told them how we had marveled at the lovely sunset by the ocean
instead of telling them how I watch the sunrise every day
and remind myself of the beginning of another day without you.
You see, I didn’t tell them how I had lost you.
In the back of their minds, you are pretty much alive
and we are both happy in our dreamland.
In their conscious minds, we are free
from the clutches of harsh reality.
We live in our own fairytale
that we can shape with the palm of our hands.
We can bring down heaven and make it our homeland.
It is in the back of their minds, where I am safe and sound
with you by my side to protect me.
We have our happy endings and our own personal sanctuary.
Because that’s the only place I would like to dwell.
Inside the rose-colored glasses of their imaginations.
Where we are both living the life after happily ever after
of our own love story.
