Like a melody which plays unceasingly...

He recognized the once familiar writing on the musty, fragile bits of paper which had browned in time...

Years seemed like lifetimes ago. He closed his eyes to the light which steamed in through the window. The mighty deodars stood silent sentinels, as if they too were lost in a haze of deep remembrance. The breeze barely moved, still and gentle in its slight movements. He could feel the sighs escaping his weary soul seeking respite from the ache which had made home in his heart .

He had never believed in a love which needed to be expressed. She never stopped seeking reassurances and re affirmations. The more she had reached out, the further he withdrew into his shell.Her lack of civil protocol had often irked his senses. Did she not understand what space was all about? Why did she want to get under his skin?

He forced himself to come back to the present. The brightness of the spring sunshine quite filled the room. He could not really place a finger on the time and moment when she had stopped pestering him with her incessant demands to be told that she was loved. Neither could he recollect what season of the year it was when the evenings and their dreaded conversations; accusations of being heartless and insensitive being flung his way had come to an end. He had just not realized.

It was not the same without her. Her laughter, her quarrels, her reaching, her insistence, they all had filed his canvas with illogical vibrant hues which he had got used to . She taken all of that away with her. Her very essence.

The note had not successfully survived intact through the years. He had read it every single day and the exercise had taken its toll. He put together the four bits together carefully once again and began reading...

"You are always in my thoughts. Like a melody which plays unceasingly, like the breath which one never takes into account, like the shadow whose presence is tangible, like the mist which lifts from the ground only after having moistened the soil, like the half remembered elusive dream which comes to you in bits and pieces, like these and much more. You are ever present,ever there. It does not matter what my mind decides, the heart will have its own way. Even at the cost of great agony and angst . The heart is mine own enemy. Adieu. .sweet love ."