"Are you happy?
That girl looks at me with her briliant smile, a wide and make you feel like you are on the sunny day--with the warmness of the sun and clear blue sky.
"Aren't you?" She replies my question with another one. I return the smile, of course not as radiating as hers... but this is my best smile. A smile that I can put on my face when she's happy.
"As long as you are." I say, and she laughs. Brightly.
"Soo cheesy." She says. Then she continues. "Well, if my happiness can make you happy as well," She puts her arm on my shoulder, embracing me,"then I am~"
What a best day. I am walking on the street, with this girl who gives me spring sensation, beautiful scenery. Or summer sensation? On the beach, sun-tanning, and cold beverages. Perfect happines,right?
Well, except: it was a lie.
I saw her in the library this morning. She sat in the corner, behind the shelfs, doing nothing.
Yes, literally nothing. She just sat there, looking at the empty space on the table in front of her. I wouldn't be worried if it was simply daydreaming. But it wasn't. Her face seemed... empty. And it wasn't because she didn't put on her typical smile. She looked like some other person, not the girl who always makes me happy with her smile and laugh--with her existance.
I didn't go to her. I didn't because.... really, it was like I don't know her. I just kept staring on her, with ten meters of distance between us.
I saw her scribbling on a piece of paper after four minutes passed. I knew nothing what she scribbled there. Well, not yet.
Then--without knowing that I was there for fifteen minutes--she left, leaving that piece of paper on the table. Just when I was sure that she wouldn't come back, I went to her seat and sat there. She folded the paper into a really small wad. I--with all of this worries and curiosity--opened it.
Who knows that my heart would ache as I read that letter.
"Are you happy?
When someone asked me that question, maybe I will answer with a "yes".
A simply "yes".
But if I really think about it....
I don't really know.
I mean, I'll laugh on some jokes, I can smile if I have to, I'll cry on some sad or tear-jerking moments.
But it's just.... like that.
It feels empty, especially when I am alone.
Do you know that feeling?
Like, yes, I don't want to die yet.
But what do I do in my life? What should I do?
It feels like I need to talk to somebody, but nobody wants to hear me.
Can you... please help me? -- G."
The moment I opened the letter, I know, though I can't understand it. Yet. I can't act like I understand the thing I've never been through. But I could say that I know.
That girl was lying. She wasn't happy--isn't. The perfect girl I adore so much actually isn't perfect. She tried to, but she failed. She's dying inside.
That's why I am standing here now, in front of her room. Knock on her door, silently praying that I am not late. I can't reach her via phone, I don't see her on social medias, but I still wish....
Girl, please be okay.