Moon

The Promise You Left Behind Two years. It’s been two years since you left. Yet every night, when she places her hand over her heart, she still feels that same rhythm—the heartbeat you once called yours. You used to say, “As long as your heart beats, I’m still there.” She never believed it… until she lost you. That little music room still remembers you—the old wooden piano by the window, the melody you both created together. You called it “our song.” She called it home. That day—the rain, the screech of tires, the silence. A car accident took you away. But she couldn’t accept it. You promised, remember? So she kept listening—to her heartbeat, feeling you live within every pulse. Now, two years later, she’s back in that room. Her trembling fingers touch the keys. The song begins—soft, broken, incomplete. Because you’re not here to finish it. Then suddenly, a cold breeze sweeps through the curtains. They brush against my cheek—the way your hand once did. And for a moment, she feel you again. She freezes. And suddenly—your melody plays on its own. She doesn’t scream.She smiles through tears.Because she knows… you’re here.