Fun fact: the body is purified with water,
ego with tears,
and the soul with love.
No wonder why my soul used to be so impure.
I woke up early—but not for work.
The manager was shocked.
It was the first leave I'd taken in two years.
I shaved, got dressed—beach casual, nothing fancy—
and looked the best I could.
Then I remembered:
I never took Sophie's number.
So I walked to her place.
The road felt longer than it should've—
like my memory didn't want me to find her.
But I did.
I stood there for a while, hesitant to ring the bell.
I don't know why. Fear? Hope?
Still, I rang it.
And there she was.
Perfect.
More beautiful than the stars and the moon combined.
She tilted her head.
"What are you staring at, idiot?"
I laughed. "Nothing. Let's go."
We held hands—this time, on purpose.
And walked toward the beach,
talking like we were the only ones in the world.
We weren't afraid.
Not of people.
Not of love.
We were just… living.
She smiled at the sky.
"The world feels more colorful than it used to, right?"
I looked at her. "Indeed it does."
It had been ages since I visited the sea.
The blue waves shimmered under the sun,
the sand warm beneath our feet.
She tapped my shoulder.
"Wanna play in the water?"
I laughed. "What are we, ten?"
She grinned. "Yes or no, mister?"
I nodded. Yes.
There was no resisting her.
We found a small changing station,
bought simple swimwear, locked up our things.
The water was perfect—neither cold nor hot, just… right.
She started splashing me.
I pushed her into the water.
We laughed like kids.
Time forgot us, and we forgot time.
Hours passed.
We finally dried off, changed, and walked back slowly.
"I think we'll fall sick after all that," I said.
"Don't you worry about tomorrow?"
She looked at me with eyes full of light.
"Why should I worry about living tomorrow,
when I can live now?"
Her words hit something deep inside me.
We exchanged numbers at last,
and shared lunch.
I told her not to eat so much ice cream—
but of course, she didn't listen.
She wanted to fall sick, maybe.
Just to live a little more.
"Wanna see something beautiful?" she asked, joyful.
I looked at her.
"More beautiful than you?"
She laughed. "Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?"
"Lead the way, captain."
She took my hand again
and guided me to a hidden rose garden.
We sat on a quiet bench, wrapped in blooming red and white.
"It's beautiful," I said.
She smiled.
"You don't have to sit so far. I don't bite."
I chuckled. "I hope you did."
We laughed together.
Time slowed again.
We talked about work, about random boring things—
but nothing felt boring when we spoke to each other.
I walked her home,
and as she disappeared behind her door,
I reached into my pocket.
I pulled out my cigarette box.
Held it.
Then tossed it into the gutter.
"I won't be needing you anymore."
But I kept the lighter.
Maybe I'd need it someday. Who knows?
I flicked it open,
watched the small flame dance.
I thought to myself:
I'm like a wet lighter. Useless.
But all I need is a spark…
And I'll burn bright.