She stares outside her bedroom window. The skies are turning grey, chasing the sun’s golden hues as it sinks below the horizon and sheds a bleak glow over the fallen leaves on the pavement. The last shots of summer have faded; autumn has arrived.
She draws the curtains close and lights up her bedside lamp. The feeble beam casts a shadow over the tangled sheets on her bed. In one fleeting moment, she sees his body intertwined with hers, molded so closely together that she can no longer tell where his limbs begin and hers end. She tosses the sheets aside and breaks the image, refusing to sink in the quicksand of memories threatening to swallow her whole.
Her weakened knees crumple beneath her. With shaking fingers, she tears a page off her journal and begins to write.
By the time you read this, I’d have long kissed our memories goodbye. I can still taste the bitterness on my lips, but my eyes are now dry from tears. They’ve given up and grown weary from taking the brunt of my heart’s pain. I have finally realized that tears, hope, prayers, and wishes on shooting stars cannot reverse the fate of a love that can never be.
We were blinded by this love. We thought it can move mountains and prevail in the end. I really thought so, too. I had hoped, with every beat of my heart and crevice of my soul, that ours is a love that can transcend human conflicts, errors, and weaknesses. That it is above societal rules and barriers. We thought, for far too long, that we can prove people wrong and be testaments of a love that made it through despite the infinite impossibilities.
But, as we have come to realize little by little, our love has its limitations. Great as it may be, our love cannot conquer all. It is powerless in the hands of fate; we cannot force what is not meant to be. We did our part; oh yes, we tried so hard and did our best to stay together. We managed to prolong the inevitable. But we have reached a dead end. This is as far as we can go; our story ends here.
We are not each other’s fates. You are not my destiny, and I am not your happily ever after. If we are truly meant to be, then it wouldn’t be this hard, would it? We cannot go against what has been set for us. There have been far too many unfortunate circumstances that have not only scarred us, but also wounded the people we care about.
This isn’t our time. Love, no matter how great it is, must be set free if it is not meant to be.
I am letting our love go. If, in the long run, fate changes its course and decides to give us a chance, then I hope we’d still find it in our hearts to start all over again.
Until then, I wish you well.
She stops writing and folds the tear-stained page neatly into half. Holding the letter close to her heart, she draws the curtains open. Darkness has set. It’s going to be a long, sorrowful fall.