Back in time

I visited him this evening. His eyes were closed, resting peacefully by himself when he suddenly opened his eye. That was the ever first time I felt relief at heart as I watched him gesturing for us to enter his ward. My heart sank and I pretended to be really cheerful like I always did before him. I plastered a big smile across my face and read letters to him upon his request. He was badly wounded and yet he reached out his hand to hug me. I read the letters as I held on to my tears. Then I realised I just couldn't do it anymore. I broke down and his heart sank. His eyes welled up with tears as he pat my head and touched my chin gently. For a moment, I really hated myself for not being able to share his burden. I felt useless writing him a letter a day. There is nothing much I can do for him.

I wish that time could turn back before the fateful day. I will not prank and bully him. I will read all his text messages promptly and spend quality time with him. I will never do funny faces at him and I will never lecture him. I really missed the days we had together.

Despite defamed badly by media with made up tales, suffering from external and internal stress, I knew it was all worth it. I made no clarification even though it wasn't the truth. I just want to protect my dear friend. Minimising the damage by keeping quiet is the only thing I can do for him. It's worthwhile.

His physical and mental health are my greatest concern. Friend, keep fighting please.