Published by: Aprilyn Sado
Date Published: February 27, 2025
Time Published: 5:17 PM
Category: Prose
Subject: The would-have-beens
In this story, I would have been a brave knight, coursing through unforgiving seas just for an ounce of your affection. The waves would rise, towering like the walls, the winds screaming warnings of what seems to be impossible. But in this story, I would not falter.
My heavy sword would cut through lightnings, my armor shining even in the darkest of times. Every battle ought to be fought, I’d have you in mind—every wound would be endured in your name. I would travel oceans, slave through mountains, and face the nastiest of beasts, all for a chance of having my hand brush against yours. To prove that the mere echo of your laughter, no matter how distant, is worth the war.
In another story, penned by gods, I would be Orpheus—a mortal who, with not a hint of fear, traveled the underworld in search of the half of his soul, Eurydice.
The path would not be kind; it would be treacherous, the air thick with doubt, shadows crawling around my ankles like hungry hands of a monster, but I would not stop. The sound of my music would weave through the absence of light, calling your name like a prayer. I would trust in fate; I would bet all I have on the thought that there are things you would go far not to lose. I would not look back. I would not let fear get ahold of my heart. I would believe in us.
In another story, I was better. I was braver, much more courageous.
But that story remains unwritten.
For I was never a courageous knight, nor a fearless mortal. There were no gleaming swords to be seen, no godly melodies, and no dramatic acts worth carving into legends. There was only myself—shivering of doubt, hesitant, frightened of what I had not even seen yet. I was no hero. I was a human afraid of losing, terrified of reaching out only to be greeted by nothingness in return.
I did not fight. I did not chase. I let the tides wash my whole being far, far away. I let the darkness hold me close, let the silence settle in the cracks of our story like an unfinished poem. I watched every moment dust away, knowing that somewhere else, in another universe, another time, in a version of us different from this one, I might have been the person who stayed. The person who held on—perhaps, I would have been you.
Maybe, in some distant universe, there is that version of me. A version of me who stood on the edge of the storm and did not turn away. A version of me who did not hesitate to reach for your hand. I wonder if that me got to feel how wonderful happiness is. I wonder if she got to love you the way I never could.
But I am not her.
I am here, in this story, the only one that exists, where I let the words stay unwritten, where I let you slip away without a fight. And maybe, just maybe, this is how this story was meant to end.
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