The Bench

Everyone has had that place where he/she could feel better. That place that place that wiped your tears in the sad times. The place that made you feel better with every tear and every sad thought. And that place for me was a bench in the middle of a resort.

I was there alone crying, with the bench being my only witness of why I cried. I sat there, watching how other people had fun, while I was being torn apart by my sadness. That bench is the place where I hated and lived my trip the most. I don’t know what would’ve been for my happiness if it weren’t for that place.
The bench, the place where I could lean my shoulder on in a foreign land. The place where I could run away to. The place where I really was myself. The place where I felt safe.


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