All the stars we stood under

Losing someone dear to your heart always brought enormous pain and life-long drive, a sole remembrance of devastation, plastered with hundreds of sleepless nights and restless days. I've been through it, not only when I lose my parents but also when I watched my brother dying and the worse, my moon blessed killed him.

I could feel his pain surprisingly. The look he had on his face was once on mine, tears that were souvenirs of our sufferings.

I wanted to reassure him, to hold his fragile body in my arms, and alleviate him that everything was going to be fine, but I knew none of this mattered, knowing neither his mother was ever going to come back nor my brother. They were gone, for different reasons, in different ways.

Still, I placed my hand on his back, and before I knew it, I was rubbing his back soothingly. Despite my consolations, I felt his body tensing and he hung his head low when I noticed his fingers interlaced with each other with tear drops falling over his lap.

My heart