I Can’t Forget

The look on your face when you told me.

The tears in your eyes when I said “I’m so sorry.”

The tightness of your arms around me when I hugged you, as if clinging for dear life.

The guilt in your voice when you told me you wouldn’t be able to help anymore.

The resignation as you sighed and said you didn’t want to keep me from leaving.

The regret I felt for walking away without looking at you one last time before we separated.


I am wishing so hard that there is something I can do to make it all go away. To ease the pain. But I’m not a doctor. I’m not a nurse. I’m not anything. This is not my battle to fight. This is yours and your family’s.

The most I can do is to stay here, pray, and wait. To wait for you to come back. If you come back bearing good news, I will be right beside you while we rejoice and thank the Lord. If otherwise, I will still be beside you, to hold you, to cry with you.

But for now I have work to do. You can’t be here right now, but that’s okay. This is the best and only thing I can do for you at this moment, and I will do everything I can to make you proud.

Arch 163 paper, I am going to own you if it’s the last thing I ever do. This is for them. This is for him.


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Allie has seen many a dust bunny in her lifetime, most of them in her dorm room. She is often mistaken as a 13-year old, further intensified by her weird fashion choices that mostly involve cutesy patootsie rings, colorful knee high socks, and ribbons and bows in her hair. She dreams of waking up one day and finding herself as a character in Star Wars. Preferably a jedi. With a purple lightsaber.

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