Not Without You

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 44; the forty-fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

A lonely autumn dusk, soft wind gushing through the window ruffling the pages of an open diary

                  

"Ever since he left, my life seems meaningless.

I don't even know why am I alive.

I should have went with him."

      (Dated: 1/11/xx)

Wind flips through some more pages as if trying to solve the puzzle of the text.

"That's it. I can't stand anymore. I am going to him."

                                                                                         (Dated: 2/11/xx)

A sense of  suffering ran throughout the room. Even the wind sounded like it was weeping. Eagerly it went through some more pages.

"It has been so long since he has been gone, but it still feels like not even a second has passed. The pain is still as raw as it has always been. I kept myself locked away from everything. I kept mourning over him every second, in a vain hope that some day I will get over him. But it kept getting worst. I decided to walk out to the world, to try facing it again once more, alone. With a new resolve, to start a new life, I went to do what I loved doing the most- taking a stroll in the park. A few minutes I tried to adjust myself again to the sights of another human. After being alone for so long, I felt like an alien. People who knew me, initially undecided about approaching me, decided to leave me alone finally. Everything made me nostalgic. We had been here a lot many times, holding hands, looking into each others eyes, obviously oblivious to the rest of the world. I ran my palm over the benches, hoping they still have his warmth and touch. Everything was beautiful. A slight touch of winter made it all even more gorgeous. One could clearly smell love in the air. As a chilled breeze greeted me, I wrapped up my shawl a little bit more tightly around me and took a seat on the empty bench. It felt as if he will now wrap his arms around me, the way he used to do a million times. I felt so vulnerable, so naked without the warmth of his arms. At a distance, I spotted a silhouette of a couple, standing arms in arms. The girls whispered something to her lover. He held her up in his arms, sweeping her feet off the ground and she squealed in absolute delight. Her laughter sounded like my own and suddenly in her lover I saw him. My heart skipped a beat thinking he was alive. I laughed at my own folly. Her lover was much younger. Had it been 45 years back, his silhouette would have been quite similar. I decided to walk to the little pond that witnessed our last meeting, to have it witness my last day of mourning his death, the last day of my loneliness. As I peeked, I saw few remains of my silver hair, on my face were the shadows of the past and on my lips the lyrics of the last song he sang to me. I wasn't looking at me, I was looking at a part of him that he left back, in arduous hollow of  pain. I stare at the sky, whispering, my love, I can't do this life, not without you. The sun started to drift off  the horizon, leaving the red of he blood behind. It was time, time to say goodbye to the rest of the world, time for old lovers to meet again, time for lifelong partners to reunite. "

                                                                              

                                                                                                                 (Dated: 3/11/xx)

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 11

Credits: Image - Love in the air by Anand

Courtesy - Apple Blossom's Photography via www.blogaton.in