I gazed at the screen, hoping for a miracle. I had been waiting for hours, desperately trying to reach him. He was the only person who mattered to me, the only person who gave meaning to my life. He was my soulmate, my partner, my best friend. He was everything to me.
But he was also thousands of miles away, in a war-torn country, risking his life for a cause he believed in. He was a journalist, a brave and noble one, who sought to expose the truth and fight for justice. He had left me six months ago, promising to return as soon as possible. He had kept in touch with me through phone calls, texts, and emails, assuring me of his safety and love. He had told me to be strong, to be patient, to be hopeful.
But now, everything had changed. A massive earthquake had struck the region, triggering a series of devastating aftershocks, landslides, and tsunamis. The communication lines had been severed, the power grids had been destroyed, the roads had been blocked. The news reports had been grim, showing images of death and destruction, of chaos and despair, of fear and pain. The chances of survival were slim, the chances of rescue were bleak, the chances of reunion were nil.
I had tried everything to contact him, to hear his voice, to see his face, to feel his presence. I had called his number, his colleagues, his friends, his family. I had emailed him, messaged him, tweeted him, posted on his wall. I had prayed to God, to fate, to destiny, to luck. I had begged, pleaded, cried, screamed. But nothing had worked. There was no response, no signal, no trace. There was only silence, darkness, emptiness. There was only hopelessness.
I felt a surge of emotions, overwhelming me, consuming me, destroying me. I felt anger, at the world, at the war, at the disaster, at the injustice. I felt sadness, at the loss, at the grief, at the sorrow, at the loneliness. I felt fear, at the unknown, at the future, at the reality, at the death. I felt guilt, at the selfishness, at the helplessness, at the regret, at the blame. I felt love, at the memories, at the moments, at the bond, at the heart.
I decided to write him one last message, a farewell to love, a goodbye to life. I wanted to express everything I felt, everything I thought, everything I wished, everything I dreamed. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, how much I missed him, how much I needed him, how much I wanted him. I wanted to thank him for everything he had done, everything he had given, everything he had shared, everything he had been. I wanted to apologize for everything I had not done, everything I had not given, everything I had not shared, everything I had not been. I wanted to ask him for forgiveness, for understanding, for peace, for grace. I wanted to give him my blessing, my support, my trust, my faith. I wanted to say goodbye, to let go, to move on, to be free.
I typed the message, pouring my heart and soul into every word, every letter, every punctuation. I read it over and over, making sure it was perfect, making sure it was enough, making sure it was true, making sure it was me. I pressed send, hoping for a miracle, hoping for a response, hoping for a sign, hoping for a chance.
But there was none. There was only silence, darkness, emptiness. There was only hopelessness.
I closed my eyes, feeling a tear roll down my cheek, feeling a pain pierce my chest, feeling a breath escape my lips, feeling a life end.
I love you, I whispered, as I drifted into oblivion.
About the Creator
Peter Idowu
Hi, I'm Peter, a content writer. I love to explore various topics and share my insights with you. Whether it's life hacks, arts, culture, or anything in between. If you like my content, please follow me and leave a comment. Happy reading!



Comments (1)
This was a great story !!