She decided to take a year off to pursue her artistic inclinations, Shakespearean drama and stuff like that, I never understood too much about it. I remember bidding her good-bye at the station, there was a lump in my throat, but I put up my best face for her sake. Did I think I could fool her? Why did I even bother to try? She caught on in a second – “Look, stop acting. I know you don’t feel too good about this, so just remove that horrible grin from your face and behave normally. Remember, absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Then, after giving me a quick hug, she got on the train and disappeared. I felt miserable. She seemed to have left a void inside me which nobody or nothing could fill.
My last year at college was devoted to studies and tennis. I kept myself busy so that I would get no time to think about her. We were in regular contact though, our telephone bills were huge, and we did meet during holidays. Time flew by, as it always does, and we were attending another graduation ceremony, only this time it was mine. I had done exceptionally well and a bright future awaited me.
It took me about an hour to disentangle myself from friends and professors, and then, after a family photograph with both our parents in attendance, I took her out for dinner. I can see her holding on to my arms beaming with joy. Dinner did not take too long.
Hands in hands, we were walking back from the restaurant by a route which we had taken so many times earlier, both of us engrossed in the memories that the familiar path evoked.
We sat down on a bench and she started telling me how much she had missed me. I gently put my fingers on her lovely lips and softly asked her, “Will you marry me?”
I was expecting her to say yes in a flash. I should have known better, after all when had she ever done anything I expected her to do. She did not say Yes.
She said, “Look, everything seems to be happening so fast. In fact it’s so perfect, almost too perfect. I love you more than anything else in this world. Let’s just give each other more time. Also you have your studies to consider and I want to make sure for both our sakes that in our haste we do not end up doing something that we might regret later. I hope you understand…It’s been a fairy-tale till now, but life is never a fairy-tale. I want us to hit a few bumps to really test our relationship. Today, I love you and you love me, but what about a tomorrow when things are not so rosy, will we still love each other?”
It took me a few seconds to grasp the implications of what she was saying. And when I did, I just could not bring myself to believe it. In effect she was refusing to marry me because in her own words things were too perfect. I simply failed to understand how being perfect for each other could be a reason for not marrying. I tried to reason with her and said that I was done with studies and had already made up my mind to take up a job, that a tomorrow in which I did not love her was never going to be a reality, no matter what the situation, my love for her would never lessen. She pursed her lips and told me not to be stupid. I could feel anger welling up inside me, with great difficulty I managed to restrain myself and said, “Will you or will you not marry me?”
“I will eventually, but I cannot allow myself to rush into something as important as marriage. Don’t you realize, even for yourself it would be better to complete your studies rather than taking a job just so that you can marry me. Let’s be rational, I mean what’s the big hurry?, she said.
I had however lost all sense of reason by that time and was in the grip of a fierce blinding rage. It was the first time I was angry with her, and also the last. I told her to stop talking rubbish. Who did she think she was to tell me what I did with my life? If she did not want to marry me now, I did not want to marry her ever. She had tears in her eyes. My fury however remained unabated, I continued to rant and rave scything through her with every word that I uttered. It’s all a blur now – I don’t even remember it properly, I don’t want to.
I remember leaving her crying forlornly on the bench. Oh God! How could I have left her there? I paid for it dearly, in the worst possible way. That is my last memory of her, no trace of a smile, eyes welling up with tears and her face contorted with sadness and grief.
I walked away from her and out of her life. I was crossing the road, still in the throes of anger, when suddenly looking towards my right I saw a truck bearing down on me, there was no time to step aside. In that split second, before death embraced me, it dawned on me that I had ruined both our lives. I knew exactly what Troilleus must have felt like when he was ready to exchange a thousand deaths for one chance to meet his beloved Cressida. I did learn to appreciate Shakespeare. I would have gladly undergone a million deaths for that one chance to hold her in my arms, to comfort her, to somehow convince her that it was not her fault, to see her laughing one last time. The second passed and I got no such chance.
It’s been ten long years since that fateful night and she has not forgiven herself. She is a pale shadow of herself, leading an unhappy existence filled with tears that never stop flowing, an aching grief that never stops gnawing, memories that never stop hurting. I wish that she would somehow find a way to kill those memories, to obliterate my shadow from her soul so that I could live a peaceful death. The pain, the anguish, the guilt, it’s unbearable, it gets worse by the day. It’s been ten long years and God knows how many more, but she will never let go of me.
And so both of us shall continue, with her having to die every passing second of her life…and me having to live every passing second of my death.
