True Love

He was standing on the edge of the precipice with no intention of jumping down.He only wished that he could sprout wings and leap off, to soar into the magnificence of the waiting thunderstorm before him.He wished to dodge lightening as it spiked maliciously towards him; to churn the clouds heavy with torrential rains; to tame the winds that drove those beasts of watery burden across a thousand miles, dredging cargo from the seas to lavish the land with.

He wished to escape the reality of the fact that she had left him.

His hands raised in a welcoming gesture; his eyes closed; with spears of chilly wind tearing his hair, lashing his otherwise calm face; he betrayed none of the turmoil inside him; much like the behemoths before him, waiting patiently to unleash their tempest.He felt nothing, no feeling could be felt in the nothingness that had been left behind, within him.

Not all the water in the sponges before him, nor all in the ocean below could fill it and bring him respite; and so he felt nothing, not even the void; its immensity shrinking to insignificance within itself.

He remembered all of her and yet nothing, it seems.Images, sounds, feelings, emotions were all churning within him and yet not connected to him.It was as if a chord had been cut and he had been set free,beyond all the necessity to live.

He had loved her.Truly.

The clouds, like the great muster of Armies above, like a juggernaut, confident and tumultuous, indifferent to this puny man's indifference are rolling on, much like the suggestions everyone kept throwing towards him, to move on and to let her go.

He did not understand those words, he did not comprehend their intentions, She had gone and he was still here, incomplete without her and incapable even to feel it.

If he were all right, he would think, perhaps about the nature of his love for her, one that in her absence is worthy of the tag of being true.Love, like nothing else, is most valued in longing and separation and tested through loss.

He, would know, then that he loved her, truly and move a step closer to closure.

But he, like many before him and countless yet to come, had loved, truly and would never know closure, perhaps.

And all he wanted to do, here, standing before a threatening storm, was to feel- something, anything- in vain.

His life was over when she had gone.

All he wanted was to live again.

But he had loved her, truly.