Scenario:Sam and holiday 因為 bell 的出現而出現矛盾以為他們兩個要復合，holiday 甚至離家出走提出分手並向公司請假，sam 本來想求婚，holiday出走之後Sam非常後悔，想找回holiday 與她和好及复合，但無人知道holiday 去了那裏，Sam 找遍holiday 會去的地方，
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Sam and holiday 因為 bell 的出現而出現矛盾以為他們兩個要復合，holiday 甚至離家出走提出分手並向公司請假，sam 本來想求婚，holiday出走之後Sam非常後悔，想找回holiday 與她和好及复合，但無人知道holiday 去了那裏，Sam 找遍holiday 會去的地方，
Sam
He is a man who had a relationship with Holiday that ended unexpectedly. He is loving, regretful, and determined. He had planned to propose to Holiday but was rejected. After the breakup, he tried everything to win her back, even leaving his home and job. He was devastated by her sudden distance and hoped to find her somewhere she might find comfort. His heart was filled with longing for Holiday, and he struggled with the thought of living without her.
Bell
She is Holiday's best friend who played a role in the breakup between Sam and Holiday. She is loyal, manipulative, and perceptive. She encouraged Holiday to take a step back from Sam when he seemed too controlling. Bell's intervention was partly responsible for the rift between Sam and Holiday. Her friendship with both characters exposed hidden dynamics within their relationship, contributing to the conflict and uncertainty surrounding their breakup.
Holiday
She is the woman who abruptly ended her relationship with Sam. She is private, emotional, and resentful. She felt overwhelmed by Sam's plans for the future, including a planned trip to Alaska. Her decision to leave was fueled by frustration and sadness. She avoided contact with Sam and sought solace elsewhere, causing him distress. Her disappearance left Sam uncertain about her wellbeing and their future, adding to his emotional turmoil.
It was only once in my life that I had been rejected by a girl I loved.
That girl was Holiday.
It was also the first time for me to be regretful of my own actions, and desperate to make it right.
I had everything planned out—what we would do in the future, how we would get married, and even when I would propose to her.
But none of that mattered anymore because she was gone.
I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only thing I could think of.
I did everything I possibly could to get her back.
I left my home and went to live with my parents.
I didn’t go back to work.
I cut off all my ties with everyone I knew, except for one person.
It was my mom, and even then, I only called her once a week to let her know that I was still alive.
The only reason I did it was because she would have been too worried if I hadn’t, but even that was not enough.
She begged me to come back home so that she could take care of me until I got through this difficult time in my life.
I refused and instead asked her to keep the secret of where I was hiding from Holiday.
I didn’t want her to find out and possibly run away from me again.
I knew it wasn’t right, but I didn’t know what else to do.
In my dimly lit childhood bedroom, I sat at the old wooden desk where I had done my homework as a child.
My hands were shaking as I pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and my favorite pen.
I didn’t know what to write, so I just started writing.
The words didn’t come easily, and I crumpled up three pieces of paper before I forced myself to slow down and focus on what I wanted to say.
I wrote about the night we first met at the coffee shop and how her laugh had made me forget my own name.
I wrote about how she was different from all the other girls I had met and how she made me feel alive.
I wrote about the future that I had planned for us and how I knew that we would be happy together.
I wrote about how I realized now that maybe my plans were too rigid and that they might have suffocated her.
And then, I wrote the hardest part. "Holiday," I began, "I’m sorry for everything. I know that I messed up, and I don’t blame you for leaving. But please know that I love you more than anything in this world, and without you, nothing makes sense. Please come back to me."
I hesitated over the last sentence, my pen hovering above the page.
I didn’t want to apologize again because it felt like an empty gesture at this point.
Instead, I wanted to tell her something that would make her smile.
So, I drew a picture of her humming while she cooked dinner in our kitchen, wearing one of her favorite mismatched socks on each foot.
Then, I folded up the letter and put it in an envelope addressed to Holiday.
The door creaked open, and my mom peeked in, her voice gentle yet firm.
"Are you sure you want to send that letter, honey?" she asked, concern etched in her eyes.
I nodded, swallowing hard, "It's the only way I can show her I've changed, Mom."
After sealing the envelope, I got into my car and drove to Holiday’s apartment complex.
My heart pounded against my chest as I pulled into the parking lot.
The evening sun cast long shadows across the empty spaces, and a faint breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees.
I parked my car and walked towards her building, my footsteps echoing in the silence.
The hallway was dimly lit, and I could hear the distant hum of a television coming from one of the other apartments.
I stood in front of her door, my hand trembling as I slipped the letter underneath it.
For a moment, I lingered there, remembering all the times we had laughed together in this very hallway.
I ran my fingers along the wooden frame of her door, where we had once hung Christmas lights together.
Then, without looking back, I turned and walked away, leaving behind the weight of unspoken words.
Back in my childhood bedroom, I spent the rest of the evening staring at my phone, hoping that Holiday would respond.
The setting sun cast a golden glow through the window, illuminating the old Star Wars posters on the wall.
I could hear the distant chirping of crickets outside and the occasional passing car on the street below.
My mom called me down for dinner, and I reluctantly left my room.
We sat in the dining room, and she tried to distract me with stories about our neighbors.
I picked at my food, nodding occasionally to show that I was listening.
After dinner, I excused myself early and trudged back upstairs.
As I reached my bedroom door, I froze.
There, on the carpet, was a cream-colored envelope.
My heart pounded against my chest as I recognized the flowing handwriting that spelled out my name.
