Short Story ©advbimal
In every love story there is something to cherish. Something to remember. Something to forget. Something to forgive. But this story had nothing or anything of that kind. We loved. Exchanged letters, photos and many more.
She was a friend of my relative. So I knew her from when she was young. She used to come to my house to pick up books for reading.
We were together in the music class and we both had Hero cycles so we were roaming around quite extensively. We had sex when we were 13 or 14, if you can call so experiments at that age. That was before we became the so called lovers. Probably, that was one of the reasons why we “decided” to love eachother later.
She became a teacher in the college near my home town and I used to pick her up in my motorbike from her college. Eventhough our tastes were different I felt as one of the heroes from the stories I have read or the songs I heard.
One day after the college time she was still sitting alone in the class. I finally found her. I thought that was the perfect place to propose to her and I did. For some time that empty classroom become our bedroom. Before dropping her at home I asked her “can I consider your silence as yes”. She smiled. That was the day I last spoke to her. That was the time I saw her last.
Two days later her brother came to my house with a book to return and an envelope which he gave to me. While I was holding it he turned and walked away. I never opened that envelope. That was an invitation to her wedding. It was a shock even though this was inevitable. For some time there was a scar inside me not because of what she did but how she dealt with it. That relationship came to an end before completing two years or so. I hadn’t considered the right or wrong of what I did at that time, I burned all the books that I had.
Later one day while I was sipping white mocha at Starbucks with Paru, I told her about this and she said, “sometimes losing a game is far better, for various reasons, than merely winning it.” I looked outside through the glass panels. It was raining and I was happy inside. I looked at Paru, she was smiling as if she could read my mind. I took a slice of cheese cake and gave to her. When you feel that your friend understands you, you see even more how beautiful she is.