Remember the Polaroids we used to take? Every milestone we crossed, every major event. They’re all hanging by me in a row, bearing testimony to our story.
The first was taken on the University campus, where we became friends. You were the adventurous, outgoing girl everyone loved. I was the guy who was always in the shadows. You pulled me out. You gave me new life.
In the photo, you’re laughing. It lights up your entire face like no amount of flash ever could. I’m looking at you with a smile, unaware I was hopelessly falling for you.
The next one is from when we went on a trek in the mountains, just the two of us. We’re sitting by the tent, staring at the sheer cliffs across. They were beautiful, but they could never hold a candle to you.
The time when I finally mustered the courage to wear my heart on my sleeves and tell you how I felt. That I could not imagine living without you and wanted you by my side forever. I remember asking a friend to click the picture, for I wanted to forever capture the immense joy and surprise on your face as you accepted my proposal. We even signed that picture: Rajan and Ruchi.
The day we got married. You looked like an angel in the bridal attire. Even more than always. Our faces radiated joy. We were a match made in heaven, the guests told us.
Our first trip as a couple. We’re standing by the Dal Lake with our hands laced together. We’re looking at each other; anyone could tell that we were head over heels in love.
Our 2nd anniversary. We’re proudly standing outside the new house we built. That construction was one of the first tests of our relationship, and we passed with flying colours.
The birth of our daughter. I did not know that I could love another girl as much as I loved you. She immediately became the apple of our eyes, our pride and joy. We’re both looking at baby Riya, eyes shining bright.
When we got our first dog. Timmy was just a pup, snuggled in your arms. His big, brown eyes take in the new scene as Riya looks on in awe.
There are no more Polaroids.
2 months later, I lost you. Death rudely snatched away the blessing life had given me: You. When you left, you took a part of me with you. I was reduced to a shell, a corpse with no life. For you were my life.
I was angry with the world. I did things I’m not proud of. Those were the worst days of my life. The only anchors left in my drifting world were our daughter and Timmy.
And then, a few days ago, I dreamed of you. You told me I could not waste my entire life pining for you. Me driving myself insane wasn’t ever going to bring you back. You said I should move on with life and be a good father to Riya. But it hit me the most when you told me I was not the person you fell in love with. That this was not me.
As I write this, sitting at the desk you bought me as a gift, with those Polaroids hanging by me, I realise I must let go. I will always love you, even when my teeth fall out and my hair turns grey. For absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it not?
But I see that instead of lamenting your passing, I can reminisce about the memories. Instead of crying because it’s over, I can smile because it happened.
This is the first time I’ve been able to think of you without feeling sharp stabs of sorrow in my heart, without tears brimming in my eyes. I’m finally at peace. I hope you are too.
I’m letting go.
A/N: Hiii! I wrote this for an English project I need to submit at school, so I'd really love it if you gave me suggestions on how to improve it. Thanks!