"You have to be strong", she tried to console me.
"Isn't there any other way?", I asked, struggling hard to control my emotions.
"No. I have to do it. Do it for my parents", she paused.
"I know it is unfair, but I can be fair to only one side. I chose to be unfair to you." She was firm.
I remained shocked, my hands shaking, and barely able to hold my phone to the ears.
"Promise me, you'll not spoil your life for me" she commanded, as if she still owns me, despite the news she just broke.
I nodded, thou I don't remember if I uttered anything verbally.
It was a long and deafening silence, occassionally interrupted by couple of words, which meant nothing at that moment. I cried and felt she was crying too.
My phone was continuously getting calls from my friends, I was supposed to leave for a party with them. But here I was, over the phone, alone in the apartment of four, struggling to be on my feet.
Time heals everything, the scars, the wounds, the pain, both physical or otherwise. Now I realise, love is not only about being with each other.
There was love in that departure too, there was concerns of my whereabouts, when she will be no more to take care....... Departures make you realise love, more than anything else.
Love is boundless, irrespective of physical proximities or togetherness. Love is not only in getting together, love is there while you separate as well.
It has strengthened my love for others too. The rest of my friends and families, most of them unaware of my loss, but we're there to support in whatever way, without realising, they are saving me from getting erratic.
The chapter of my life, which ended over a long call, mostly in silence, is still fresh.