Can You Paint Me A Love Story?

On the corner of a busy and bustling city street, she saw him behind his easel as people hurriedly passed him by, almost as though he was fiercely guarded from the world around him. He smiled slightly as he clutched a paint brush in his hand, and whistled a love song that could not be drowned out by the lively noises of the streets. With each brush stroke, he brought to life the waves of an ocean that were crashing harshly on the sands of a beach.

She stood silently as she watched him paint the seas that reflected the rising sun of the morning sky. She gazed longingly at the life he was creating by the mere strokes of his brush, and through the gentle whistles of his love songs.With a trouncing heart, she walked up to him and through the shudders of her own voice, she asked him if he only painted scenes of the oceans and the skies? He lowered his brush and grinned, before he told her that for a few bucks, he would paint her anything she wanted.

She fell to her knees and grabbed his warm, inspired hands. She stared at them, confident and hopeful that they would create a painting for her too. She asked him if he could paint her a love story? Without pausing to take a breath, she went on to describe how it should look, just like she had planned when she was only a little girl. She told him of a little blue house, a slight way out of town. She asked him to paint a porch with a swing, so that she could watch over her horses and gaze out onto her flower fields.

She begged him to paint her on that swing in a white cotton dress, and make it the veryfirst day of spring. She squeezed his hands tighter, and asked him again, to paint her a love story.He glowered when he noticed the despair in her persuasive eyes. He hurriedly seized a blank canvas, and picked up his paint brush. He asked her where she would like him to place her love in the painting, and when she began to whimper softly, he knew he would have to be placed right beside her, where she needed him to be. She asked him if he could perhaps peek into her heart, and see how it longs for the way it was before; before, when her story was a painting that she had once owned. And then, she implored him to place her love’s arms back around her, just like it once was.

She told him how the bright sunrises contradict the dense mist that weighs down so heavily on her. She said that she needed him to paint the joyful sounds of the birds in the mornings, so that her heart could hear them once more. She gently whispered how she wondered why the world continued to turn, and that without her new painting, she was just not sure she could begin again. She asked him to add fireflies to brighten her darkest nights, and she told him to place the stars like a silvery gown around her.She said that she wanted to hang it above her big, empty bed where she feared the dark and dreaded the dawn all at the same time.

She softly confessed, that she reaches for her love in vain and that she tearfully whispers his name, just as she is about to fall asleep. She reminded the artist not to forget to paint daffodils, so that she can smile instead of cry. She told him to take his time because at that verymoment, her heart does not yet have a home, and that it is just a painting, until it becomes her love story.


What If?

What if you once giddily stood at the altar, before your family and all your friends and vowed that you’d love only your chosen him? That there would never be anyone else again and that you’d love only him until the day you died? What if you wore your gown of white as proof of your undying lovefor him, and you swore to the legitimacy of the promise you were making to only him? What if you faithfully and staunchly undertook to remain by his side, through all the good and all the bad, the up’s and all the down’s?

What if you convinced yourself that through sickness and health, poverty or wealth, you would stand up straight and remain loyal and devoted, and by his side? What if you pledged to love and cherish him, and only him for the rest of your life? What if you believed that you got all you could get and in the process, you unintentionally deceived your very own heart?

What if you were burying the hopes of finding a kind of a love you are not sure exists, and what if your soul rebels against your mind and does not allow you to live anything lesser than truly-madly-deeply? What if you were flouting its gentle nudges and tender whispers as your mind frantically scolded and silenced it? What if you thought that love was an effortless and simple decision that you were capableof making without your heart’s approval or permission?

What if you mistakenly thought your mind was smarter and far braver than your heart? What if, years after that moment, you awake in the middle of night, terrified by the unexpected thumping and vulnerability of your heart? Unsettled and desperately afraid, you sit up and try to identify what it is that so brusquely awoke and unnerved you. Your heart races, and your hands begin to tremble as an unidentified fear grips at it, almost as though being squeezed by two remorseless hands.

What if you look around you and for a moment, you are not quite sure you are where you should be? What if you feel like an imposter, looking in on a stranger’s life; a life you don’t want? And … while the world is asleep, while the humming of the birds are quiet and the sounds of the day has been silenced, the stillness begins to haunt and taunt you, as the battering of your own heart continues to demoralize and terrify you. What if, and for just an instant, you feel as though you don’t really belong in that very moment, and that it was all an enormous mistake right from the very start?

What if you scrutinize your surroundings and in disbelief, you discover that you just don’t fit in, you never really did? What if all it ever was, was a determined need to belong and to fit in with someoneyou like and are safe with?

As you try to recover from your rude awakening, you are left staring miserably at the ring on your finger and you are left glaring questioningly at the furrows on your face. What if the gold has turned cold in your wedding band, and the lines on your face was supposed to be someone else’s story to tell? What if the walls begin to cave in around you; the same walls you desperately tried to make a home in, but are now a prisoner in? What if you feel secluded and trapped, and you begin to wonder if your footprints have been covered up by the sand or by the snow?

What if you feel finished in an unfinishedlife? What if he is no longer home to you, and never really was? What if his fingerprints on your heart are wiped clean and all traces of him, have disappeared from your heart? What if his name has been drowned out by the noises of your world and his eyes have disappeared from your mind? What if your light for him has slowly burnt out, yet, there is a fire that still burns inside of you?What if there are arms out there that fit flawlessly around you? What if you thought you were slightly broken, but forgot that you were worth loving? What if you took just what you thought you could get?

What if you thought you were slightly off-center? Like a clock that is not perfectly set, but would still chime and tell the time, even if it was five minutes too early or ten minutes too late.What if you forgot to value you and accept you for all that you are? What if you were so busy trying to make sense of your past and map out your future, that you missed the one your soul loves? What if you chose wrong? What if you were so desperate to rip apart from your unique self that in the end, you ripped a part from you. What if trying to repair you, finally broke you?

What if one day you wake up and your heart hurts? You feel unexpected anguish. You need never-before-needed validation of your place in the world. You need to matter more. You need to love, to truly-madly-deeply and ridiculously-foolishly-blindly love. Your loneliness is unpredictably excruciating. What if you realize that you chose to be loved, rather than to love, and now being loved is no longer as important as it once was? What if there is still evidence of your worth in a heart stillsearching for yours? What if a song might be playing right now, and that heart stops, because he misses you, even though he’s not quite sure who it is that he longs for? It might be that the winds carry the whispers of your name to him and as he hauntingly stops to find you, he frantically gasps for air. What if he dreams of you, the girl whose face he can’t see, but whose soul misses yours?

What if you are still thriving in another’s dreams? What if he longs for a place he’s not sure exists anymore, and has no idea if he will ever find you there? What if he is stuck in a moment, holding his breath, afraid that he might miss you? Anxious that he might never find you; terrified that you might have passed him by forever.So, beautiful and deserving soul, wake up … and be true and faithful to your heart. Don’t hold hostage a heart that does not belong to you. Let him go and let him find the soul that misses his. Be loyal to your Spirit.

Your what-if’s are closer than you think, and time is shorter than you will ever know. Don’t be safe. Don’t search for stability or comfort. How can your dreams come true while your eyes are closed, or while you settle for a good-enough fit? Look for the magic of the one that is searching for you, the one that fits you like a glove. Look for the miracles heading in your direction, and hear the gentle nudgings of your soul. Don’t sidestep them and never hide from them. Don’t allow your mind the power your heart is trained for. Don’t be the girl who stares at those walls blankly someday; the one who does not have a story for the lines on her face. Meet love halfway. Don’t wake up in the darkest of nights, tormented by all your should-have-been’s and never, ever allow for what-if’s.

Throw out any reservations your mind might have, rake up and discard all sense, shelter and reasoning, and make space for the instinctive messages between your heart, your soul and your mind. There is never a do-over for any of us and time is too short for anything less than a magnificent, delightful and an exhilarating kind of love with no regrets.

Did The Universe Ask You To Love More Than One?

You promise him that it’s him you want and that it’s him you want to be with. You pledge your love and devotion to him, because … you do love him, and you are devoted to only him. You love him wildly. You love him faithfully. You love him so incredibly passionately. Your heart can compare himto no other, and you dream of your tomorrows with him. You have every intention of being faithfully dedicated to him, to just one. In the end, we all can only love one. We are made to only love one.

There is only one lid per pot. We were never made to love more than one, the same. We were never made to love more than one at the same time, were we?And at first, it is only him. You bind and pledge your truest of love and allegiance to only one. All that came before him, no longer matters. A love that you once cherished and held onto so feverishly before your new him showed up, is at once, abandoned and disregarded. It must be forgotten. You tell yourself that it was never love, and that you just need time to adjust to your new him.

You are keen to distract yourself from your other him, the one you once knew so well. Someone you might have clung to because of familiarity or shelter, but not love. It could never have been love because you love your new him, you know you do. You are convinced that the lingering emotions for your other him will eventually dwindle. You are sure it will. It has to. We were not made to love more than one.

But the time you’ve allowed for yourself to adjust, changes nothing. You still and do love him, the new him you undertook to love forever. But then, one night and without warning, you pretend to be asleep because you were unexpectedly reminded of your other him’s scent earlier on. No matter how hard you tried to ignore the memory of him; no matter how desperate you were to disregard the rush of emotions that had abruptly found its way back into your heart, you just can’t shake it off. Your new him can’t know. You question why the sentience of your other him’s odour so absolutely unnerves you.

You lay reminiscing about how he once touched you and how he felt against you. You rebuke yourself for thinking of your otherhim again. You begin to whisper silent “I miss you’s” to your other himwhen no-one else can hear, and you hate yourself for doing so. You punish yourself for being suddenly perplexed by what it all means and where it would all end? You try to think back to when it all began and why you failed to see it creeping up on you? You wonder how long he’s truly been on your mind for, and how long the memory of him will still last? You don’t love him, it has to be so. You love another, it has to be so. You make no sense of anything as you urgently aim to decrypt your untaught emotions. You try and find a trigger. Why is he on your mind when your new him is so staunchly set in your heart.

Why does the memory of your other him’s voice make way for the broadest smile on your face? You want your other him to stop launching, what you deem to be, a brutal attack on your heart and on your mind. You choose your new him. Your soul mate, he has to be. Why is your other himliving in your mind? Why is your heart searching for him again? Why does the memory of him suddenly hurt so much? Is it your heart that made the very first move? What about your new him? Why are you still so captivated by your other him that you continue to seek him out, but at the same time, you can’t let go of your new him?

Why do you set aside time to find your other him in your mind, and linger there … with him? Is your soul pursuing him? As you dawdle with your otherhim in your mind, you discover in horror that your body too, still craves his. You play your “could-have-been’s” out like a movie in your mind, and you can barely breathe as your heart begins to race fiercely. While you lay there, pretending to sleep, you see your other him’s eyes staring back at you.

You turn over to your new him who lays staring out into the dark, leaving you to pretend to be asleep. You say that you just want to look into his eyes. You are desperate to hear your heart whisper that he is the one. Your heart does not let you down; it tells you that it loves him, and it can’t lose him. You ask your new love not to move, not to say a word, and not to ask you about it. You whisper how you love him, but your soul reminds you of your other him, at the very same time.

You lay watching him as he falls asleep. You realize that you should have known that it was coming to this. You were blind, you never wanted to see. There are traces of them both in your eyes and in your heart. You know that you love them equally, just differently. You choose one to love in full view of the world, while you can only love the other in your mind. Equally, just differently. He might find the proof of your shredded love in your eyes, but there are no lies on your body.

You don’t love your other him like that, you can’t. You know that you love your new him, but the Universe has asked you to love more than one. It has asked you to choose one and long for the other. It has demanded a choice and when you finally choose, it unforgivingly begins to toss memories of the other him at you. It heartlessly begins two different stories in your heart, and it watches you play out the love you have for them both. It has cruelly allowed you to be torn between two hearts, two souls and two him’s. It reminds you of the one when you are with the other. It lets you long for the other when you’re with the one.

It let you choose and it left you feeling as though you were never equipped to make thatchoice. You should never have had to choose. You should never have been damned into an eternity of loving two, equally but differently. You can’t choose. You never could.

You love them both. You needthem, both. Your heart won’t let you choose now, when it’s already too late. When you have alreadychosen. When you probably would have chosen exactly the same, again. The Universe has allowed another to stroll thoughtlessly into your heart, and blind you for a while. Only for a while. Only for a bit. For only a moment, it let you believe that you love only one. It let you breathe before it hurled your other him back at you, and asked you to love them both, equally. Yet, differently. It has asked you to love them both all at the same time, when the world allows you to love only one.

Is Two Out Of Three Enough?

You can spend all night talking to him, when you are spending all day trying to convince yourself that you just need another day or just one more night, before you can at last, tick off number three on your checklist. You tell yourself that you are only moments away from adding that one final tick. That one last much-wanted blot. The one mark you stop thinking you really need. The one you can perhaps, live without … forever.

You want him ……………………….. 📷

You need him ……………………….. 📷

You love him ………………………… ✘

But, from the innermost gist of you, you begin to realize that there is just no way at all, that you will ever love him, and there is not much else that could ever change the way you feel. You try not to be sad when you reassure yourself that you’ve tried all you conceivably could, to tick-off that one lastcheck-box. You hold on to your two-out-of-three’er, and zealously convince yourself that you’re not doing toobadly. There’s just nothing left to hunt or pursue, and there’s not much more you can say about that one final check-box. It has gotten as good as it will ever get.

You try to show how passionately you want him and how feverishly you need him, but after a while, you can no longer find the words to excuse the missing third, and final tick. The most significant of them all, love. You know that if you walk away from your two-out-of-three-someone, there is more than likely, not another two’er out there for you. There might be a one’er somewhere, but not likely, another two’er.

There will certainly nowhere else be, another three-out-of-three’er, a perfectly ticked checklist. There will never be a three-out-of-three’er for you, again. Can you lie? Can you tell him he is your three’er? Will he settle for his rating if he knew he was only your two’er? Because, to your once-upon-a-time “three-out-of-three’er”, you were only a two-out-of-three’er. You were once wanted and needed, but, there was just no way he could ever tick-off that one last check-box either. He could not make you his three-out-of-three’er. The most significant of them all, love. And when the nights are long and stormy; when the days are lonely and noisy, you want to be someone’s three’er.

You need to be someone’s three’er. You want to love your three’er and you want your three’er to love you back. You don’t want to be a two’er. You were never prepared to settle as someone’s two’er.And just then, it becomes that one mark you stop thinking you really need. The one you can perhaps, live withoutforever.

Is two out of three enough?


To Go Back To Before

Among thousands on that city street, she looked past the crowd and saw him standing there. She could barely move when she noticed the abrupt recognition in his face. Her world stood entirely still for just a moment as she anxiously fought to take in a breath of fresh air. With nowhere to hide, her togetherness fell apart and her transparency faded away as he came closer to her.

He was scurrying to catch her and when he finally reached and embraced her, her heart instantly shuddered and reminded her of their once. Something she had carelessly forgotten, and thought was once lost, had found her again. The tempest inside of her was raging when she remembered how perfectly flawless she felt in his arms. He recklessly evoked the scent of her skin as every memory of a promise they once lived, came flooding back to him.

Almost like a song he was once besotted with, but hadn’t heard in far too many years, and how the lyrics remained imprinted in his soul as he memorized each word.

Instinctively, she wanted to grab his hands and beg him to go away with her. To run away. To go toofar. Just for one night. To go back to before. Before she was someone else’s wife and before he was another’s man. To before they knew too much and felt too little. To when they could still effortlessly function on love and desire alone. She wanted one more night to evoke the she, she once was; the she, she was with him.

Far away to a time when they were a them. To let go of their now, and forget how they grew up and lost their magic. To before their lights were so cruelly turned down. To a time when no-one else mattered and not much else was real. To when their bodies spoke so much louder and so much clearer than their voices did. She wanted to go so far back to when their hearts dissolved into their souls, just like they once did. Before life stole their passionate flames. She wanted to sit with himand hold his hand tightly into hers. She wanted to drown in the puddles of his eyes.

She wanted to splash around on the shore with him, and gaze up at the stars as they counted almost everyone. She wanted to dream the same dream as he once did, before life stepped in and flung them into separate and untaught terrains. She wanted to go back just for one night, and forget that she became someone else’s love. She wanted to forget that she pledged her heart to another.

For one night, she wanted to be free to unreservedly, love him again. She wanted to whisper how her heart still sought him out, and how her body still craved his. She wanted to step back into, and shamelessly linger in a moment she once thought she would never lose.

Instead, they talked and chuckled about old times and just about all they once went through. They spoke like old friends, but fell silent and remained hushed about their old love. As though, it no longer mattered. As though, it never mattered. As though it never happened. As though, the stars had stolen the memories of a love that once so distractedly captivated and obsessively consumed her.

He hugged her while she desperately held onto him. But, as she was about to beg him for just one more night, she knew that she had to forget him for a while longer. Perhaps forever. She gave him her very best smile as she died just a little inside. By the way he so profusely fought against an uninvited lump in his throat as he unashamedly lied about how wonderful he’s life had been since, just reminded her of how far they had come without the other.

He held her close enough to whisper how dreadfully he had missed her, but that he was in a hurry to go back to his life without her. He had to leave.When he walked away from her, he was only moments away from asking her to run away. To go toofar. Justfor one night. To go back to before. Before he was someone else’s man and before she was another’s wife. To before they knew too much and felt too little.


To go back to before …

When He Slips Back In

Every once in a while, she is wonderfully sure that a portal opens between the life she finds herself trapped in, and his, the next. She hears a song on the radio play more frequently than usual, and she smells his cologne in the strangest of places, at the oddest of times. She abruptly awakes in the middle of the night, positive that she felt his hand clutch hers, as he delicately whispered her name.

She knows it’s him, she knows his voice and she remembers his touch; she remembers how his hand used to feel in hers. She searches for him in a crowd when she feels him brush past her, and she closes her eyes to linger in the breath-taking familiarity of what was once him. She unintentionally checks her watch at exactlythe same time each day, and when she recognizes the pattern, she understands that he is close.

She is flung into an unresponsive haze as she clings to him once more and she remembers all. She pines for him and now she is reasonably certain that he misses her too. Her sorrow is still only love; unspent love that has nowhere to go anymore, so when her world creates a portal for him to come back through to her, her love finally escapes from the corner of her eyes.She begins to whisper when she really wants to shout. She wholeheartedly welcomes and embraces the opening, when she should surely walk away from it.

She becomes quiet as she stops her shuddering voice from speaking and she just feels. For a while, she can’t move forward, and lingers in the opening of the portal; with him, just one more time. They are the days that matter. They are the days that keep her heart from dying. They are the days that allow her to breathe for just a little while longer.

She no longer needs people. All she wants is him and the beauty of his love for her. She hunts his strength because she no longer feels much of anything else, other than intense hankering and excruciating anguish. She passes her days waiting for the portal to open once more, so that they can dance and splash around in the puddles of one another’s hearts, again.Without the portal, the world she is stuck in, is simply a life she needs to get away from. She can’t hear much of anything and there is barely space for her to breathe as she drowns in the silence.

She rambles around purposelessly through this life, waiting and begging for a miracle to release all the caged love in her heart, so that she can see the beauty in her world, and not crave the healing in the next.She wants her second chance. She wants someone in her world, to touch her again. She wants to forget, but only, until that portal opens again.

She will never say goodbye to him; she will never let him go. But, if you stumble across her, just love her when the portal closes again.


She So Wishes It Didn’t

The world still turns. The seasons still come and the seasons still go. Autumn changes the color of the leaves and with winter comes the cold and the snow. In spring, the world cheers at the sight of blossoming flowers and new beginnings. And then, in summer, laughter fills and lingers in the air. The world still turns.

The streets are filled with the sounds of cars making their way down the roads and the voices of people on city pavements still echo in the distance. Children are still born each day. Lovers fall in love and lovers fall out of love, every single day. Death comes for those whose time is up, but the world still turns. Mornings still come with each new sunrise, and the darkness covers the universe with each sunset. The world awakes, the world goes to sleep, and the world still turns.But hers doesn’t. Her world stood still a long time ago.

It no longer turns. It has kept her trapped in a kind of a limbo she can’t get out of; one she just can’t escape from. Everything around her changes, yet nothing is different. Her world stood still. Her life has been rocked and her heart is shattered.But, for the rest there is not even a slight indication from the universe that something has changed; something so important to someone so much lesser has been lost.

There is nothing to tell her that his leaving has somehow impacted the world, shoved it off-course or shook it slightly off its track. Like it did her. Like it shoved her to the ground and kept her there. There is nothing to tell her that he was important to this world, to this life and to her heart.Yet, while the world forgets him, she searches for him at the break of each day and at the last light of each night. She looks for him between the walls of the home he once lived in. She traces the footprints of a life he once existed so profoundly in. She follows the trails he once took on the city streets, and she continues all the way down to the dirt roads he once found solace in. She retraces the paths he took to the beach and she follows his tracks to the forest. She looks for him.

She keeps looking for him. She still looks for him.She tries to find him in crowds. She hunts for proof that he was once real. She clings to photographs, and she holds on to the memory of him. She doesn’t want the world to forget. She doesn’t want to forget.

And still, the world turns without him. She so wishes it didn’t.

She Turned The Lights Off – One By One

She wrote him a note on a day much like any other day before that. She nervously slipped it in underneath the door of the boy who had lived next door to her for almost all of her life. With her trembling hands, she wrote him that she’d grow up soon, and she asked him to wait for her, until she does. She said that she was a little shy, but that she was sure he was the boy she would love for the rest of her life. She told him that she was saving her heart just for him, and she signed the letter with love, from the girl next door.He smiled when he read her note, and after he read it one more time, he slowly made his way over to the house next door.

Her tears rolled callously down her cheeks when he told her that he was leaving their little home town, and that he just couldn’t wait for her to grow up. He reminded her that she was only sixteen, he twenty two, and he assured her that she would forget him soon. As he turned to leave, he told her to leave a light on for him, perhaps he would have one more last chance someday, maybe when she had grown up and perhaps, if his heart brought him home to her.It was on the day he left that she turned the front porch light on.

She wrote him a letter and told him that she was turning the back-light on too, she would hate for him to get lost, if he ever wanted to return to her. As the years slowly passed by, every light in her house was turned on, one by one. She was afraid that he might get lost while looking for her, and she wrote him to tell him that her backyard was as bright as the crack of dawn, and the front of her house looked as though it had runway lights.

She told him that it looked like noon in the dead of night just for him, if ever he decided he was tired of being gone from her. She signed her letters with love, from the girl next door.As he lay in bed on a cold, winter’s night, he re-read her letters and with a pounding heart, he understood for the first time, how her words and promises were haunting his memory of her. He wondered if her porch light was still burning as he climbed out of bed and packed his bags to catch the first flight out and back to the house next door.

But, in the days before he would return, one by one, she began turning the lights off. First, when she met another for their first date, she turned off a bright light she had kept burning, inside of her house. When her new love stayed over for the first time, she turned off another bright light. When she said yes to her new forever, she smiled sadly as she turned off the light in the backyard. When he placed a ring on her finger, she turned off one more light and when he carried her over the threshold, she finally turned off the last of her burning lights, the light on the porch that would show him his way back to her.

He hurriedly ran all the way to the house next door, and as he stood in front of her house, he was just in time to notice her turning off the last of the lights she had sworn to keep burning for him. He wanted one more last chance as he frantically knocked on her front door. His tears rolled indignantly from his eyes when he heard that her name was not like it was before. She told him that his one more last chance had ended that very day, and that he had been gone for too long, she just couldn’t wait for him. She told him that he had been gone for ten years, but just as he once swore to her, she promised him that he would forget her soon. She told him that she had pledged herself to another, and that she had turned the lights off, one by one.

What He Should Have Told Her

He told her that their thoughts were trapped, and forever lost in their once childhood dreams. He said that the years in between had stolen their promises, and distorted the way his heart once sought hers out. He just couldn’t wait anymore; he had stopped dreaming of her a few years back. He said that he had found someone new, and he hoarsely whispered that she was more like him.

His heart had simply forgotten hers, and it was not her fault. He said that perhaps too much time had passed, and too much distance had turned them into strangers to one another. He reminded her of their foolish promises on a playground that no longer appealed to him, and that he could barely remember what they once swore to each other.

He told her that they were merely the dreams of two innocent, foolish, starry-eyed, unwise and stupid children whose journeys had taken them away from one another, as was always an inevitable part of the Universe’s divine plan. He asked her not to call him again, and he begged her to forget their so-called love, and carry on as though he never was, and they never were. He said that she should see the world and chase her dreams, without him. She should go in search of a love that would have to love her more than she could ever love him.

He wanted her to settle in the little white house on the hill she had dreamed of as a child, where she would sit by a window, and dream of naming her babies. He told her to forget him, just as he had forgotten her a long time ago.But, what he should have told her was, that the breaths he was taking in this world was fast running out, and that his new breaths would soon begin in a whole other world. One he didn’t quite understand, and one he feared almost as much as losing her. He should have said that he could not bear to have her see him like this, and that he had never wanted to utter unkind words to her, or break his promise, or her heart.

Even if he had whispered it, he should have told her that his days were being counted, while hers would carry on long after he had left. He never told her of his long fight, or how hard and bravely he fought just to be right there for her when she finally returned home to him. What he should have told her was that he had waited for her, and how ironically it had turned out that he had waited for her for his entire life.

He never meant to say goodbye with what seemed to be with no feeling at all; he never meant to betray the promises he clearly could remember, and once swore to her. He just could not give her a better reason for living his lie. He didn’t want to tell her about how he was painfully living their memories of so long ago, while he waited for the day his eyes would close one last time. He never wanted her to know what he already knew; that his fight was for nothing and that he was tired.

He was exhausted, and he was in pain. Even though he was never any good at playing it tough, it was their beautiful moments that he found his courage in. What he should have told her was that while he was living in his own little world; one she would never know of, she would forever be the one that his heart would recognize. What he should have told her was that she should listen more closely and hear what he isn’t saying, as he tells her how he no longer loves her, and that he perhaps never did. That when the rain begins to fall, it was her he would stop to remember for a moment longer than he should.

He should have told her how he wears his pain like a heavy coat around him, and that it is her face he sees, her smile he finds, and her eyes he searches for in everyone else.What he should have told her was that he was about to die too young, and that death was about to steal all the remaining pages from their chapter, in a book that began almost thirty years ago. What he should have told her was that their story was really only about to begin, and that he would love her from the other side of the stars, especially when he hears her laughing in the rain, or as she has her arms around another, or while she cradles her child in her arms.

What he should have told her was that even though she pledged her heart to him a long time ago, she would be all right without him, because he would watch her, hold her, love her and miss her, from the other side.