He loves her. He loves her way too much. He talks to her everyday in the way wind ruffles his hair. He finds her essence in everything. He never wanted to bid goodbye to her. He has always been very stubborn in his love towards her. He just never stopped loving her. He starts his day by looking at the picture by his nightstand. The years have passed and he still wishes her good morning. After all it is not the morning but looking at her face that gives him the purpose of living one more day. He always made the best coffee because she liked it. He starts his day with her favorite coffee in her favorite cup. That cup is very special to him as it was held by her soft hands. He never liked coffee but her presence attached with the word "coffee" made him love coffee like never before. The girl he fell in love with, was a mess. She would never let him go but also would never allow him to love her till death. She always wanted to make him go away and find another woman.
She was the darkness and he the nyctophile. She repelled light and he drew the curtains to protect her. He used to sit by the window and smile looking at the sunset. She always loved sunsets more than sunrises. She would tell him how Sun would succumb to darkness spreading colors in the sky and would celebrate its last moments. She was all about those few moments. The ones like the ripples in water or the wavy clouds or the first drop of rain that sometimes would fall on her. She used to jump in excitement at how she was the first one to be told by nature it would rain that day. She would spend all day exaggerating how she told him it would rain. And when it rains, he makes sure to tell her it’s raining outside. Oh she can see but he wishes what if that excitement of first drop of rain brings her back. She was scared of cooking. As he cooks his food, he remembers how she would put a stole on her face just so her face remained protected in case that hot oil splashed. He laughs inwardly. He loved her worst things as if they were her qualities. He never saw any quirks in her. He eats quietly on that dinner table remembering how she was embarrassed when her stomach grumbled so loud the first time they went on a date. She was always this shy, rarely making any eye contacts.
Its night and he goes to sleep. He never says goodnight to that photo by his side. He knew she loved nights and stars and moon. It was her time. The time when she would just breathe like it's her calling from the wild. Goodnight always meant putting an end to the endless night she felt comfortable in. He just smiles.
Maybe nights loved her way too much than him. Maybe she chose nights than him. Or why would she have left him. He envies the nights. He was the one who loved her way more than the endings of ends and beginnings of beginning. It's been years since she died. And the boy still lives. "How is that possible?" You might ask. The girl asked him to love her even after she is gone. And he knew he could do that only if he lived. She always had a way of making things go her way. And he knew it. He knew she was asking him to live. And so he decided to live for her, for making her immortal in his own little ways.
He never bid her goodbye. He never wanted to. After all how can you bid goodbye to your own soul when you are still alive. He is young. He has a whole life ahead of him. And he has never been more excited to live one more day just for the love of his life. He knows he will make it because even after her death, this stubborn girl never left his heart.
She lives through him. He lives through her. Their story never has an end because some stories are written by god himself and god knows of no beginnings or ends. His story floats in the space time fabric of universe and universe never ends at a point. Does it?