I used to have a companion in my delusional point of view that no one would never be able to see. It’s not merely a fiction...

She is a girl with curly hairs tied behind her head. A girl who loves to tell me story that may be inside a lonely box at the corner of the street, if I am brave enough to open it, I would find a breathless woman laid suspiciously. But then it always ended we were the one who run breathlessly, away of that mystery box. She doesn’t have a name and I didn’t give her one either.

But lately she’s nowhere to be found. Usually she would appear and whisper that she had been hiding from my friends.

The last time we had an intimate conversation, she replied my long grouches with brimming eyes, 

“Hang in there... for a little bit more.”

Of all people in this world, she has been the only one wanted to believe me. Of all loneliness embracing spaces between nights and days, she has been the only one who fill my heart chambers. Of all the winning and losing I have gone through, she has been the one who congratulate and console me for the first time.

She is the first one knowing I am not comfortable in who am I now. That girl always asked if I am okay? If I need hug? She said everything is going to be fine. She said I am going to be okay.

“Hang in there, just for a little bit more.” That’s how she told me to endure every fall and rise of my days. I’ll just need to wake up and lead the day.