The girl wearing the hoodie sitting in the corner of their favorite cafe, carrying a single notebook, knew about loss. How the four letter word could affect a person and change their world forever. How that four letter word can change the person itself; helping the person to shut down from the rest of the world. She knew all this from personal experience.

The struggles she faced from day to day were always those struggles that didn’t seem to fade away ever. Waking up in the morning, she always saw a lost little girl standing in front of the mirror, mourning alone to cope up with the loss she had suffered. The pain, anxiety, nightmares, insecurity most of all not having that person she loved washed over her every morning like an ocean making her feel inadequate and lonely. Every single person seemed to leave her, maybe for someone better or maybe they just left. People say time heals every wound. So that’s what she did every day. Look at the clock, waiting. Waiting for time to heal her wound and pain, her sadness and distress. As time faded away, she knew she needed to be strong. If not for herself but for those people who were near and dear to her and were also with her during those dark phases of life. She could not become weak, she could not just break in a world filled with monsters waiting to pick up those exact broken pieces and throw them somewhere where no one could trace them. Furthermore, she had to show the people who left her that she was strong enough to carry on with her life with a perfect, happy smile on her face pretending. Pretending that everything was jolly and merry and that she had absolutely nothing to be sad about, that she could go on with her life without the fear of abandonment gnawing at her insides. But that was just an illusion. An illusion for the cruel world outside.

On breaking the illusion, one would be able to see that all she wanted to do was scream and cry and again scream and cry but there was no one to notice her hollow tears. She wanted to hide and get away from everything else in the world just for a few days to cope with the loss she had just suffered. She wanted to world to acknowledge her loss and slow down, just so she could mourn for a little bit. She wanted the time to stop for her, to stop so she could press the rewind button and go back to all those moments she had spent with him and taken them for granted. She wanted to relive those precious moments once again so that she could see him one last time, touch him, feel him, one last time. But he is here. She knew he had left the solid ground but what the people didn’t know that he still lived in her heart. She would stay strong for everyone else for she knew he had kept her together for so long even after leaving. 

Looking across the glass window, the girl saw life going on. Cars speeding by, people going back home from their work, teenagers going out with their friends and also two old people walking past the cafe holding hands, maybe doing their evening walk for better health. She smiled on looking at the old couple. How she had wished for the exact same thing, how she had hoped that one day they would grow old together and be there for each other. Life doesn’t stop for anyone, she thought. It goes on irrespective of what happened to an individual. A single person is never noticed in this world easily getting lost among thousands of people. It is a labyrinth from which one cannot escape. She wiped her tears which were about to fall artistically so that no one would notice and opened up the notebook she had just bought from the less visited stationary shop to start writing.

Dear Diary,

I don’t think that he ever imagined how much pain I would be in once he was gone because if he had he wouldn’t have left me. Words cannot express the amount of emotions that have come with trying to let him go. Every day has been a struggle for me, every single day. Though it’s been a year, it’s still hard for me to grasp the fact that he is really gone. Really really gone. Sometimes, even now, I don’t know what to do with myself. There have been days that I haven’t wanted to get out of bed and days that if I allowed myself, I could cry and cry and cry on just to get off the weight pressing down on my heart which makes it all the more difficult to breathe.

Even if it’s been a year, I still sit and stare at his picture thinking that if I do so he would come out of it. Silly, I know. Sometimes I even sleep with them by my side. Silly, again. I miss his voice, his smile, his eyes, his touch, his eyes, his late night texts and phone calls, his smell and his ways to comfort me. Until I see him again, I’m always going to miss him. Because that’s what loss is about.


 The girl wearing the hoodie.

As the girl closed the diary thinking about the past visits to this cafe with him, she remembered the way he used to tuck her hair behind her ears while she sipped on her coffee, the way he used to caress her cheeks in affection, the way he used to hold her hand giving her a sense of comfort and protection, the way he used to look at her as if she was the most important thing in his life giving her a warm, woozy feeling inside. A wave of nostalgia and incompleteness washed over her. Those things that made the cafe better had now become the things which reminded her of him, making her miss him more until she gets to see him again, which might take a long, long time.