To Life, With Love

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It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Four years to be precise. Not that anyone’s keeping track, but, four years five months two weeks three days seventeen hours eight minutes and thirty four seconds, to be overly precise.

You might call me particular, or overly obsessive, but hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do! That’s what they say these days, don’t they? Maybe they don't. I think I’ve lost track of what’s the so called in. But you know what? I couldn't care less. 


I’m unusually happy today! It’s just one of those days. One of those beautiful days that stopped coming about four years ago. Days are generally really rusty now, aren’t they? It’s like they’ve lost the will to pamper themselves. It’s almost as if it’s bitter, sour, old autumn throughout. 

And you know what the worst part is?

That people have stopped noticing. Or caring really. It doesn’t matter if it hasn’t rained for months or that the flowers don’t bloom or that the leaves don’t flatter the trees anymore, or the winds don’t try to impress anyone or the sun has lost its desire to be the shiniest star in the galaxy or that origami seems to be more realistic now. It doesn’t really matter. Not to them, at least.


But to me? It matters. It all matters and it all leaves an indelible trace on me.

I think it’s because of her.
No.
I know it’s because of her.
It’s all because of her.

It rained today, you know? After exactly three months one week four days twenty seven minutes and forty three seconds. It rained. And today was one of my happiest days in these four years.

Maybe because this rain reminded me of her, maybe because I could smell her in the rain or maybe because it was like these four years had never really happened and there we were dancing in the beautiful rain right outside our gorgeous little cottage just before that wild sunset.

It was like she was there today. With me.
And maybe she was here today. With me.

Damn, I miss her so much!

I miss everything that was her. And everything that we could have been. Together.

Together. It was always her favourite word, you know? Well of course, apart from ‘always!’




And I remember that every Sunday morning we’d be up by five am just to watch the beautiful sunrise from our balcony and wave to those pretty little birds. While dreaming of our own ‘always.’ While dreaming of our forever. Together.

She’d always say that we’d have our ‘always’ someday! And we’d have our always together. But I guess that our together was short lived and always, well just an illusion.

When I was five, I’d go outside each night, stand in my balcony and gaze up at the stars with my  telescope in one hand and hot chocolate in the other. And I remember my father coming out, once each month, and asking me why I loved standing there so much? He’d always ask me the same question and I’d always had the same answer.

“The constellations, pa, the constellations. I find them the most beautiful creations in this whole universe. They’re just so, so beautiful and somewhere deep down, I know, they’re mine. They fit in my little telescope so well, don’t they?”


He’d always laugh at my answer, give me a kiss on the cheek and tell me that someday I’d discover my own constellation.

And I did. She was my constellation.

It’s almost unbelievable now to think that she left. To think that she left me alone four years ago. And I? I just watched her leave. That’s all I did. That’s all I could ever do.


I couldn’t save her. I did try though. I tried my best. I really did. 

But, they said that she was incurable. They said that she didn’t have much time. And they asked me to walk away. They asked me to leave.

She didn’t want that treatment either. She said that they were right. She said that she didn’t want to spend all that’s left of her days on a hospital bed, with doctors and nurses as her sole companions and getting pills and therapy as her last minute souvenirs.

She wanted to fly. Like a penguin.

She wanted to hope. Like a seal.
She wanted to live. Like imagination.
And be free. Like a little dream. 

She always did have the wildest imaginations, didn’t she? And I guess that’s one of the things that I loved most about her. She didn’t want to fade in. She wanted to stand out.


Well, she was a beautiful, courageous woman. And she always be.

Maybe that’s why these four years haven’t been as hard as they all dreaded they would. They were okay. Yes, I’ve had my share of tough days and days when I’d just cover up, sit and cry. But I had my good days as well. You know, days full of rains, or hot chocolates, or star gazing or travelling down memory lane. 

But still they always felt incomplete. There was always something missing in them. There was no cherry on the top. There was just a cherry. That’s it.

Yet I got through them. She made me get through them. Ah, I’m still so proud of her. After all, she’s my constellation, isn’t she?

Now that I think of it, cancer didn’t kill her. It just took her away from me. And as much as I thought that I’d never be able to forgive it for that. I did. I actually did. Yes, that’s the kind of person that woman made me want to be. 

I’m gonna meet her soon now, you know? They say it won’t be long. Probably in a few hours. I wish I could take some flowers for her. Orchids, maybe. She always loved them, didn't she? 

Dear Life, I have lived a long, happy, beautiful life and I’m proud of it. But it’s time for the goodbye now. To think of it, it always is. We just don’t notice much.

Yes, it’s been four years five months two weeks three days eighteen hours nine minutes and twenty six seconds since she left me.

And I’ve been through it all. Through every second. 

Thank you for making me get through.

But it’s time for me to leave now.  

Goodbye, Life.

It definitely has been a pleasure. 

Till we meet again.

Love,
Emm.