He grabbed my hand, holding it within both of his as the rain fell hard on my skin. Drenched in our every day clothes and hair soaked, we both watched the big drops fall and splatter on my arm. Up until this point we kept trying so hard to convince the others that this wasn’t the end, trying to make everyone believe that we would see the light of tomorrow. Although, I think it was at that exact point when we stopped trying and gave in to the truth, the truth that it was over. The strong winds had blown the roof off. Everyone was crouching in a corner, huddled with their friends, crying…praying, to the lord above to stop all of this, or to just see their family one last time. If only they knew how to live on the feelings of meekness and solace how I do, or at least how I used to. I look up once more to see him still holding and staring at my skin. He looks so much the same and yet so different at the same time. Beautiful as ever, but every strength and wall deteriorates as a single tear unfolds from his eye, and he pulls me in a little closer to feel the warmth left in his body, the one last feeling of protection I’d ever feel. My eyes get hot, and I also start crying, never in my life had I felt such love, as much as I felt it in that moment. I wasn’t crying because I’d die, I was crying because it wasn’t fair that we were a generation of many, that didn’t get to live out our lives. The generation, that wouldn’t get to feel the love that I felt right now, right here, the end of it all.




























C'est la vie