Today is February fourth. It's almost ended, over there. There are six thousand miles from here to where my heart is. Distance doesn't mean anything to me anymore.
Today is February fourth. How many years have passed, since then? It doesn't feel like time is moving at all.
Today is February fourth. I am the same person I was yesterday. I woke up in my warm bed, in my warm room. Sunlight greeted me through my window, though it was sleepy as I was. It was overcast. Today is overcast. I am the same.
Today is February fourth. Today must have been beautiful, for her. It was her birthday.
Today is February fourth. I'm more than certain he was with her. I'm more than certain he had something planned. I'm more than certain she loved it. I'm more than certain she loves him. I'm more than certain he loves her.
Today is February fourth. I'm more than certain he does not love me.
Today is February fourth. They must have spent so much time together. She must have gotten lost in his eyes. It's easy to-- I've tried. They were endless, they were kind. He doesn't know what those eyes mean to me.
Today is February fourth. I try to let go of my thoughts in a warm shower. I try to forget. I try. I cannot. Is this the water or are these my tears?
Today is February fourth. For once, I wish I had something to do. Business would keep my mind off things. I go through my jewelry boxes, my fingertips lingering on my favorite one made of ivory. Grand-mère gave it to me when I was a little girl.
"Fill this with pretty things, mon trésor. You are the greatest treasure to me."
Today is February fourth. I try on every piece of jewelry in Grand-mère's box, like I did when I was younger. I used to feel like a princess. I look in the mirror and see, not Princesse or Comtesse or Duchesse, but a child. I have grown too old for such frivolity.
Today is February fourth. These are tears, there is no doubt.
Today is February fourth. I love him. No matter how far. No matter how much time passes. I'm sorry. I will always be sorry.
Today is February fourth. Six thousand miles sounds like such a short distance. He feels farther than that. So much farther. I lay in my bed. This room is so large and empty and dead. There is no one beside me. There never was.
Today is February fourth. I am not a child anymore. When will I stop living in fairytales? I am not a princess. He was not my prince... could anyone else be?
Today is February fourth. It's not February fourth where they are, anymore. I am willing to bet all I have that their day was lovely. He would have held her closely, like that day by the sea, where time went still, and for a moment, so did my heart.
Today is February fourth. She is everything to him. I am only a passing thought.
Today is February fourth. He is everything to me.
Happy Birthday, Haruhi Fujioka. My wish is your happiness, because I know he is happy with you.
You have the only thing I could never make mine.
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