She was sitting at the table near the window at her favorite coffee shop, a place they always sat together and spent time.
The coffee mug was craving for the impression of her lips but she was lost in her own thoughts, and “he” had captured her thoughts. There was a storm brewing in her outer world as well as her inner world. This was the first time when she was here without him. College had ended and so did the chances of her meeting him, because he wanted to get away from this place. He wanted to move to a better and open place than the current one. He wanted to fly and she couldn't be an obstacle in his way towards success. After all she didn’t have the right to stop him since they were "just friends", at least for him. But for her, he was her world.
Sounds of various pitch and tone were echoing in the coffee shop along with soothing lyrics of a song playing in the background, perfectly complementing the weather. Everyone seemed to be lost in the heart-touching music but she was way too engrossed in her own desire, caught up in her own feelings, entrapped in “him” who couldn't be hers. And when the storm crosses a certain level, when your heart can't hold the pain anymore, it starts to drizzle, to shed the pan in the form of tears, to make your heart feel a bit lighter from the burden it’s been carrying for long. That day, she was missing him more than usual and the pain was certainly more unbearable and difficult than the usual, for which she had trained herself to hold back. A drop of her unconditional love for him showed up at the corner of her eye but how could she make anyone else a part of her love, of her pain. How could she share the magic of that painful relation with anyone else, which was only her right, which was her reason to survive. She wiped the tiny droplet, but may be that day nature itself wanted to accompany her in her pain, and in fraction of seconds, it started raining heavily.
She loved the rain ever since the day they drenched in those tiny droplets together for the first time, and she dried his hair with a towel, when he was way too reluctant for the same. He was in love with his hair and she loved everything that belonged to him. She drew the initials of his name with her finger at the window covered with mist and encircled it because she had read somewhere to draw the name of loved ones in a circle rather a heart, since hearts have edges and can break easily but a circle has no start and no end. All though she knew it was an immature thing to do, but she didn’t care, not today, as she was madly in love with him.
In the process of missing him and falling for him deeper with every passing moment, something caught her attention. The music in the shop, the lyrics which were something like "Jaise baarish kar de tar, ya marham dard par....mujhe koi, yun mila hai...jaise banjare ko ghar" That's all she could pay attention to, may be because that resembled the situation of her life, her love life to be precise. Despite the fact that he was the only reason of her pain, only he had the ability to cure her wounds. His smile had power enough to cure all her pain and frustration. His touch was enough to erase all the trouble she faced because of his absence.
Right then she searched for something in her bag, something very important for which she was going restless and after a few seconds she got a diary. Beautifully embellished with crushed paper, love quotes and paper hearts. Inside the diary were their only selfie and a bunch of blank papers, just like her life. That day she started writing, she used the pen to pour out her feelings for him, the feelings she couldn't share with anyone else, the feelings she wanted to share with him but couldn't. She started writing in that diary waiting for the day when he would come back to her, with a desire to gift him the time, the words, and the feelings she lived with in his absence. Once gone, time can't come back but she wanted to gift him the time, the time where he was miles apart from her, the time he lived with her absence, having no idea of how she was living. She wanted to gift him that part of life that she lived loving him and wanting him to know about and feel her love for him; in case he ever comes back. The fact that she was tied in an unconditional bond, people call true love, was crystal clear. Although she never confessed her love for him, and he probably was unaware of her feelings, yet still she was devoted to him and that was the purest and most beautiful part of the relation.
She let him go because he had to go. She was helpless. She tried to stop him but he too had his own complications. She let him go yet held on the love she had for him. For love frees us from selfishness and makes us self less in our wanting and desires.
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