Better to have loved...

From an early age, he was taught that the most reliable person in his life was himself. People walked in and out of his life like he was a ghost. He was relevant only to some, and never enough. He walked alone when he could help it. A lonely boy in a world full of opinions. Time never thought twice before leaving him behind. It always felt like he could never really catch up.

He could not be the version of himself he needed to be to please everyone else.

So he pushed and pulled, day in and day out, to get better. The harder he worked, the more detached and alone he felt. Like something was always amiss. On most days, he got lost in his work, too busy to care about the world around him.

He would tell himself: if the sky is the limit, then limits don’t exist because neither does the sky.

But some days, the drain became too much. Some monster was feeding off him, and he could not help but be consumed. He thought climbing piles and piles of work would make it go away, but every time he looked down, he couldn’t see what he was without it. So he went to drink his worries away, like every other man in pain.

She was brought up with the notion that people are beautiful. She never could see the worst in anyone. She was a people-pleaser and therefore attracted a lot of “love” wherever she went. The life of the party, they called her. But as she grew older, she started to get tired. Her smile felt heavy on her face because it was fake. The days grew longer and the nights grew shorter. However much she tried, she couldn’t stop.

She thought that if she kept smiling, it would feel real.

That this one time, if she said yes to someone, she would be proud of herself. That maybe she would make someone’s day, and they would tell her how much she meant to them. So she carried on, gave her smiles away so cheaply, and tied her worth to validation.

She was trusting, but people don’t welcome trust, they prey on it.

She gave her all but received broken efforts, broken smiles, and easy goodbyes. The more she tried to understand her problem, the more she became a problem. They started to call her clingy and weird. She was the forest fire, but now she could not even ignite. So she went to drink her worries away, like every other lady in pain.

They met completely by accident. The beginning of the conversation was somewhat uncalled for. I mean, why were they both crying in the club? Everyone else was living their lives to the fullest, right? What was wrong with them? For a while, they sat in the quiet. Neither of them knew how to really start a ‘real’ conversation. But for a second, they looked each other in the eye and saw their own reflections. Two people broken to the core.

When they finally broke the silence, they broke each other.

Word by word, they could not understand each other’s pain, but they felt a little better about their own. Soon, the tears became giggles as they opened up about their embarrassing half-lives. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the music, but something about this moment felt entirely their own. Her smile was not fake. He did not worry about work. And they found each other’s arms. They danced as time watched with envy. The faster it tried to pass, the longer the moment lasted.

They would have sued whoever said nothing lasts forever for spreading misinformation or they could just call this moment nothing.

Either way, it was forever. Maybe two halves making one whole was the only completeness they would ever experience.

The next few months were spent getting to know each other. They were now making inside jokes and smiling at the thought of one another. They would walk together when they were free, and free they were. They took photos in the weirdest places and smiled at the discomfort of strangers.

They had the world at their feet, and they never walked it alone.

It didn’t matter what the weather was, the day always seemed to fit. They never cancelled plans or stood each other up. They started influencing each other, not always for the best. When they could not compromise, they met in the middle. They made peace before they took up arms. They did fight, in fact they had both little and big falling-outs. But the fights and everything else only made them fall harder. They would see their names in the credits of a happily-ever-after movie, their texts in music lyrics, and the future in each other’s eyes. They had made the most intoxicating lemonade, and they were happy if that’s all they ever drank.

Slowly, life without each other became a bad memory.

She was falling, he was right beside her, and Sir Isaac Newton envied the gravity they discovered. The pull towards each other.

Fairy tales are lovely, but they are only magical because they are not real. They knew this better than anyone. There were days he felt overwhelmed, days she felt undeserving. But they showed up for each other. Tears were shed, but it was nothing to regret; life was beautiful at the end of each day, for they were together. People did not think they were right for each other. She was too nice. What if he was manipulating her? He was a workaholic. What if she cheated on him? They heard all of it and chose to ignore it.

Something about knowing someone has an opinion but not really caring to hear it.

It is a beautiful thing to find the one. Life was everything they read in books and better. They did everything they could together. She would even show up unannounced at his workplace to surprise him. Sometimes he would leave early and surprise her. She was the company he would rather work for. There’s something about falling, you see. It feels like a new start to everything. Like a new book, you can write the best version of yourself.

So if forever is not promised, why wait for tomorrow?

He made a marriage proposal, and she accepted.

It was a month before their wedding, but she made him write her a eulogy. She said only death could separate them when they got married, and she wasn’t letting it have the last word. He obliged; he never really argued with her. She had written him one as well. He started:

“If you are hearing this, it means you are dead. It kills me (no pun intended) that I will never see that smile again. I’ll kiss you on your deathbed as if we were getting married, and I will recite our vows so death knows you are mine in this life and the next…”

She broke into tears and fell into his embrace. She proceeded to read his eulogy for him.

“…I am writing this because I cannot imagine a life without you, so I pray that I die first and as a gentleman, do let me. Here is a list of the things you should do in case that happens. 1. Do the dishes. … I am eternally grateful that you are mine. I would cross over to hell if that’s where you end up. I know you would do the same for me.”

He thought the long list was rather unnecessary, but she never seemed to say things all at once. He just listened and didn’t interrupt. When she was done, he asked if they could do the dishes together.

Two weeks later, they went to visit her parents, who would have preferred a richer man but were happy for their daughter nonetheless. They said farewell when he left early, as he had work the next day. She would come later, as there were plans to be made. On her way back,

life did what it does best. It let her go.

A fire truck on a rescue mission rammed her car at a crossroads. She died on the spot, surrounded by strangers. She always liked strangers, but one in particular. She searched the crowd but only found him in her memories. He was her seven minutes. As she faded away, she couldn’t help but feel betrayed. What she would do to hear those vows. If only this had happened a few days later. She met death with her most unwelcoming smile, but a smile it was. He heard about it hours later. He got to her even later.

He could not catch the ghost leaving her body.

The wedding date became a funeral. But he was not going to let her rest without having been married. So she was dressed in white. He said his vows as he promised. He put a ring around her finger, kissed her, and they were pronounced soulmates.

Better to have loved and lost, they say, but he did not lose; he was robbed. Robbers, no matter how much they wish you well, never leave a note or say goodbye. They just take. So he blamed himself, he should have protected her.

She was not all he lost; she was all he had.

She said she would cross over to hell for him. This was hell for him. No “stay strong” message could ever make it easier. So he went back to his work. He always did the dishes and caught himself smiling when washing the “The world’s grumpiest man” cup she got him. He did not fall apart, at least not completely. He knew she would not want him to throw away a life they would have spent together. Sometimes the loss is greater than life itself, and there are no words to heal, nothing to feel, and you live the rest of your life incomplete.

So no, he couldn’t outlove death. But he didn’t have to. Because she had already outlived it, in him. She had his heart, and he held onto hers.

Their love had cheated death, so he waited for when death realised it and came for him, only to reunite them once more.