Everyone has a story. You can pass people on the street, in the mall, in a restaurant — each one of them has a specific story. We are all shaped by different events, different people that come into our lives and define us or change us.
When it comes to love, there is only one person who will define the term for us throughout our lives.
Yes of course, we will love more people, starting even from kindergarten. But there will be only one person that we will forever think about when defining our other relationships.
I came across that person. I believe, at an early age one must find their true love. The story of how I met her is not surprising, or exquisite, it’s actually rather simple and naïve. She was my best friend. She was nice, beautiful of course, but one does not talk about her beauty so lightly, you see. Because she was far more than beautiful, her soul was vibrating.
She always smiled, making you feel safe and important, which some people didn’t deserve.
I was in love with her since I first saw her. We were at a party. I didn’t want to go, I was so sick of partying and of drinking and I had so many things to wrap my mind around, such as the exams. But my friend dragged me there so he wouldn’t have to go alone with his girlfriend. So before knowing, I was standing in this sea of people and predating I am having the time of my life. I was socializing, drinking, when, out of nowhere, she came to talk to my friend.
And God, she was divine.
She was all natural beauty which captivated my attention right away. We started talking and talking and I liked her. Her personality was so unnerving and daring. We talked all night and we danced and I remember saying to myself, “God please let her in my life and let her stay forever.” I kissed her that night. She was dancing, her short dress was turning around and her hair was everywhere and everyone looked at her. And I told myself this is my only chance that I will probably had. So I kissed her. I never felt such a strong energy before. It was everything. In that moment there was not a person there, it was just her and I, alone on that dance floor. That is how it felt.
We parted ways after the party and I continued talking to her for some weeks.
We were going out, having fun, kissing every chance we got. I was completely in love. It was unbelievable. We were young but we were having fun and finally I thought that I belong somewhere.
We went to different colleges but we tried to make our relationship work. We took a flight every time we could and we slept in as many hotels as you can think of and we kept saying that we won’t give up. And we didn’t. We both graduated, found some stable jobs, settled down.
I was still happy with her. I could never imagine my life with someone else.
I knew her as I know the back of my hand. I knew what it meant when she was silent, I knew what she wanted to eat, how she never drank coffee and how she liked her tea. I knew everything about her. Her every facial expression I could draw it in my mind. Her voice, her smile, her laugh. She was the love of my life. She still is.
We got married on a remote island in Caribe. We moved in into a big house, with white furniture and a lot of windows and glass because she liked the style. She decorated everything herself. We lived so nicely. She wasn’t a master chef, but every time she came home early she tried to cook us dinner. We both worked to have a good life.
We had 2 children, one boy and one girl, who we loved dearly. She was the greatest mother I could ever imagine for my children. She was kind, strict when it was needed, but she always taught our children how they should behave.
One day, I was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, when the bell rang. I thought she forgot her keys, so I opened the door.
Two policemen were standing in front of my door. I keep replaying that night in my head. It’s funny because I don’t remember lots of details. I just know that they took me to hospital and there was my wife, the love of my life, the mother of my children, laying in a bed connected to all this computers and I don’t know why. They kept repeating that I need to sign the papers.
“I don’t know what papers you’re talking about.”
“Sir, your wife will never wake up.”
But that was bullshit. Because I saw her this morning, I kissed her goodbye, then I drove the kids to school. I talked to her during lunch break and we talked about this new furniture we want to buy and maybe going for a vacation with the kids. It was perfectly normal.
The doctors kept talking to me but I was so furious that all I wanted to do was punch someone. She didn’t deserve that. Nobody did.
I buried my wife on a Sunday morning. It was weird, not hearing her voice, not hearing her laugh, her smile. I went to bed alone, then woke up alone. I lost a part of my soul, my existence. Nothing was the same after. Every smile I gave to my children wasn’t a real smile. I kept having all these conversations with her in my mind, trying to understand. She never responded. Sometimes I forget, I put 4 plates at the table. Sometimes I am in a mall and I see something she might like, but she is not there to show her.
She is still present in my life, watching my every move. I love her tragically. I will always love her.