it was real to me

"So this is it?"

"I guess so"

I saw her on the world's longest day, literally and 

metaphorically. She was running late for the class, came in like a storm and went up to the last bench.

I never expected my jaws to drop, thought it's a lame form of expression in literature but I was wrong. She awestrucked me

People call it different names, 'love on first sight and whatnot, but I called her a murderer on loose. Not cause of her red hands but because of the way her eyes moved.

Trisha and I clicked right away. Didn't believe how and why we became friends but she seemed perfect to me

Her bun running loose and parts of it playing with my face, the way she used to slap my shoulders and the silly way of calling me an idiot. Everything she did was a poem. Even with the best ink and paper, I cant write the way she just existed. 

"For me, love is not so complex, I see respect, decency and certain traits. It's a go for me then" she said

Her idea of Mr Perfect used to run on a loop inside my head. Her smile was my day and night playlist, never got tired of it. 

But there's one thing I feared the most, Time. We know how the philosophy says that life is short or life is sooo damn long but for me, the irreversible nature of seconds scared me the most.

I knew sooner or later this will end, the ecstasy will vaporise and this will end. Cause time is like a book, we have a beginning a middle and an end. It's all permutation and combination in this infinite world

Crazy how I met her, the way she was just there in the fabric of my timeline. I promised myself and her that magic will not rule me, I will not fall in love.

I was wrong.

It's the last day of our class, I walked towards her and looked directly into her deep black eyes. Before a word came out I realised that exact moment that it'll never happen. I came to realise that everything I believe in was a lie I told myself. All my sweet old memories garnished with her presence is nothing but my romance with the idea of falling in love with her. 

I used to envision a reality where she fell for me, we married, had three beautiful kids and used to have our Broadway lunch with matching grey hair tops in the winter. That was all me

I knew exactly what she was yet chose to love her.

I whispered goodbye on her left ear, rubbed her chin and there she was standing with her killer eyes, I begged for her affection but my mind said no. 

I weathered away silently, quite opposite from the entrance she made.

I chose freedom, for me, it was more justified. The way I loved her was not a mistake but making dreamland was. My idea of love was different but somehow, in some stupid fucking way she just made me feel that. 

I never met Trisha ever again. She was just a part of my endless book. 

And in the end, I hope my story helps everyone to realise that you don't have to find out you're dying to start living. People name their past a mistake but that's not how history works; it's an important lesson.

Eventually, I found someone to eat lunch at the lakeside, not on Broadway but with the same matching grey hairs. 

To die for someone you love and them not living for you is not fair. Love is simple and someone without the ability to understand this simplicity is just not worth dying for, Nobody will give an honorary medal for that.

To not lose hope and continue is what we do, that's what romantics do 

We just trust the process and flow