Jeremiah, I have a terminal illness too! This concert is my final goodbye to you. We’re going to be separated! I thought to myself, overwhelmed by disappointment and frustration. The concert, once a beacon of joy, now felt like a cruel joke.
As the music swelled and the crowd cheered inside the stadium, my tears flowed freely. It wasn’t just the final performance of a legendary artist that moved me; it was the end of a ten-year emotional entanglement with Jeremiah. I felt an overwhelming sense of closure and finality.
Stepping outside, the storm greeted me with a ferocity that mirrored my inner turmoil—gusty winds, flashing lightning and hailstones the size of lychees pounded down relentlessly. I bitterly smiled, wondering if fate was playing a cruel joke on me.
To make matters worse, the online taxi I had booked in advance canceled suddenly. Struggling to shield myself from the downpour with my bag, I dashed to the nearest subway station, only to be pelted with hailstones. Arriving breathless and drenched, I discovered the last subway train had already departed, leaving me stranded in the desolate station.