The profusing linger of pain impregnates her entire self as she divulges her tarnished axiom. Her lips quiver as she confesses the ultimatum of her disability to face the harsh music that now blasts her eardrums. She does not leak a murmur, let alone an utter of complain, but the one that discarded her will never be able to stand in her tattered shoes. She doggedly resists the pain that arrows her, only to continue receiving more. Those hazel fatigue-embedded eyes spill with rivers of plea and an urgent sense of need. Swallowing her sanity, this feeble woman goes on her knees and begs for a salvation to a more ambiguous ending.

Me, on the other side of the receiver, down-heartedly opens my heart and listens to another victim of Love - a commitment that was supposed to take its players to vaults of heavens. The weeping and gloom paints the atmosphere with a blanket of grey. I am wishing that I could be the Aunt Agony who will embrace all cherished one's woes and add a sparkle of sunshine to their living each and every day.

Endeared ones, be happy. Xue, be happy. Be.