Episode 5: The Finale

Episode 5 – The Finale

I woke up with the weirdest feeling that day, knowing that I would be going home again in a few hours. I mean, I called it ‘home’, but I didn’t really like it. I’ve never liked it. It’s always been a country that I had the misfortune to be born in, till I someday had enough cash to just leave it forever.

I opened my eyes, and saw the sun’s rays were seeping through the attic window from the left side of the room, making my legs bright yellow. I was alone in the bed, since he was busy with school stuff in the morning – it was a shame that I wasn’t going to see him before I left.

I forced myself to get up pretty quickly, and went downstairs to make some coffee. I was delightfully surprised to see you there, in the kitchen. “Oh hey, you’re up already!”, he said. “Yeah, I got bored in bed – I thought you were busy?”, “I was, but my plans got pushed forward, so I have to leave in around an hour instead”. I had wished you cancelled them because I was about to leave and you weren’t sure how long it was going to be before you would see me again. But that would’ve been too much to ask, I suppose…and too much to expect, too.

My bus was leaving in around 4 hours, and he explained that he might be able to come say bye from the train station before I actually leave. A part of me wished he was just bluffing, and he would obviously try to hurry his plans up, that he would cycle really quick to try to get to me before I leave. I’m not much of a romantic (or so I thought), but I guess everyone enjoys a ‘movie moment’ every now and again. Everyone wishes that that one person they never admitted to like, actually likes them back. But God forbid we would actually show that. That’d be too vulnerable, that’d be too painfully embarrassing, because who would ever think that something good might come out of something like that, ever?

We made breakfast together, it was French toast. He whisked the eggs, then I seasoned it, and he got the bread out. We made them one by one, each one turning out slightly darker than the previous because of the burnt oil.

Mornings have always been difficult for me. I always enjoyed the prospect of waking up to a new day and new possibilities, but somehow those possibilities always seemed bleak and pointless when I woke up, and everything just seemed too difficult. But I had to wake up and enjoy the last few hours in a country I don’t loathe.

After we made breakfast, we both sat down on the sofa, in front of the coffee table, ready to eat. I sat there, staring at my food, but I just couldn’t get myself to eat. Food had no priority at the time, even though I knew the next time I’d be able to eat would be at an overpriced airport – I surely didn’t have money to waste either. I spent the entirety of this time just tracing the corners of the slice of bread with a fork. I did this lightly, which caused a very slight high-pitched screechy sound to come out of it.


I woke up to find her still sound asleep – what a surprise that was. She slept…a lot. She seemed tired all the time, even when we did nothing. But when she wasn’t tired, she could light up a room with one look. I guess that was why I was with her before. She used to light up a room more often, but not anymore. Something had changed, and a lot had happened to her. But I guess you hadn’t realised that, had you?

I went downstairs to start getting ready for my plans later. They got pushed back, so I definitely wouldn’t manage to say bye to her at the bus stop. Oh well, we had spent quite a lot of time together that week, anyways. It has to end at some point, doesn’t it? She unexpectedly woke up and came downstairs shortly after I did, I guess I woke her up when getting out of bed.

It felt easier this time, saying goodbye to her. I could tell she was pretty upset though, but then again, she never wanted to go back home, so I wasn’t surprised. She loved escaping, travelling, just being away from her home. I guess some people are just like that…Hell, most of us are.

We made breakfast together, and sat and ate at the coffee table. She kept making this obnoxious sound with her fork, it was really high-pitched. But I didn’t bother telling her about it, I was about to leave anyways.


He sweetly made me lunch for my travels. It was egg sandwiches. I didn’t ask for them, but he made them anyways. A part of me thought that might have meant something, the hopeful romantic inside me wished it did mean something. But it didn’t. It really hadn’t been a sign; it was a nice gesture. Everyone could have seen that.

The time came where he had to go, so I went up to him and hugged him. We hugged for a while, a hug is never too long though, I suppose. So it wasn’t that long, but it was long enough.

He left, and I left soon after for my bus. The bus ended up being almost an hour late, and I messaged him letting him know, I thought, maybe that would mean he would rush to get there, to say bye for the last time before I left again. I knew it would be different that time. It felt different. The day was so cold though, and waiting outside didn’t help. I wore gloves, and yet, my hands ached from the icy temperatures.

My bus eventually came. I got on the bus, I got to the airport, and I got on the plane. I started writing this while I was on the plane. I wished this was how it all happened, but it wasn’t. My feelings came flooding back like a tsunami through a small, mostly wooden-built village, but yours didn’t. That’s alright, I suppose. That happens sometimes. It happened. It’s been a while now, it happened, and that’s fine.

I started this while I was on the plane. I opened up my new black journal; its cover felt like smooth rubber. I stroked my hand lightly over the top of it, took out my black ink pen, and started writing. The writing didn’t stop for a while, it just kept going.

I started writing on the plane, while I was going away. I couldn’t stop the plane.


I arrived home and checked that she had arrived safely. She had. The apartment seemed slightly more empty and quiet without her, but that was okay, I suppose. I’ll grow used to it, as I have before. Life continues.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s