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"Black"
I stood alone beneath the white tree, the feeling in my chest as nervous as its branches in the wind. I fixed my eyes on the undulating snow far into the distance. Every second, I wished to see a tall figure make its way towards me. Each idle moment was torment to my hopes. My circumstances were always the same in the past: waiting for a lover to fulfill his promises, and brimming with expectations that eventually die as the forests do when winter seeps into the ground. But I had to believe that this time my prayers did not fail. I had not trusted blindly to fate the whole of my heart. Indeed, I was immensely foolish and obstinate back then. But I was also in love.
And truly, with my very soul, I believed he also loved me. His moments of coldness were merely occasions of reserve. His indifference was carefully hidden affection. I repeated these things over and over in mind, until I had accomplished utterly deceiving myself. Perhaps I was the only woman ever able to achieve such self-delusion. O, the things that love makes us believe! It is like a blindfold that obscures all from sight except what we wish to see.
But I shall now return to that black day, when I waited impatiently for him by the oak. Snow poured ceaselessly from the sky onto our dreary village. The icy wind stiffened my limbs and turned my skin blue. Where was he? I heard the bell ring, signalling the time for the market to close. It suddenly occurred to me, what if he didn’t mean to come? The idea seemed to make the chill stronger. I had to shake my head and reassure myself, “No. He is not so heartless as to lure me out here in the cold like this, with no intention at all of really meeting with me.”
Very soon, the shadows lengthened, and the night overtook the light of day. I was thankful to have brought a lamp with me. I kept it close to my nearly frozen hands. The bitterness of it all weighed like a boulder on my feeble spirits. Why? Why has he lied to me? Had he not loved me? Had he not expressed his desire to marry me? A profound pain rushed through me, draining the strength of my body and of my pitiful hopes. I spun around the tree and scanned every direction with what poor light I had, but saw nothing. No one. I leaned against the tree, weak with disappointment. To my surprise, I felt a hollow portion in the trunk, and there I found a hole. A piece of paper was shoved inside.
My heart quickened. I took the paper out and saw my name written on it. In his hand writing. Shakily, I unfolded the letter and read:
“Rose,
Today, I leave for the capital to answer my calling to join the army. You know it has always been my dream to follow in my father’s footsteps. Soon, I hope to sail towards France, to embrace my fate, be it death or honour.
Do not wait for me to come back. Do not continue to dream of us being together.
Forgive me, Rose. I tried with all of my heart and soul, but I simply could not love you.
William”
I refolded the letter and put it back in the hole, the parchment stained with the tears of all that had broken in me. I then marched silently into the night, and welcomed the empty darkness.
