The Last Letter - Some Stories Are Better Left Incomplete...

There is a saying..

Love the people God has given you in your life, ONE DAY HE WILL NEED THEM BACK.

                                                                                                                                                     

She opened the letter..

To my dear,

I don't know when you will be reading this but I understand there are some explanations I owe you. I owe you answers to your loneliness, maybe to your in-numerable questions. 

I want to ask for your forgiveness. I very well know, what I have done, deserves no forgiveness. Leaving you stranded in the droughts of life, breaking all the promises.

I am sorry that I could not wipe off your tears or could not replace them with happiness.

I am sorry that I was not available to hold your hand when you needed me desperately.

I am sorry that I was unable to provide the light to the darkness which we both could see coming.

I am sorry for breaking your heart into thousand pieces.

I am sorry for walking away that night, seeing your face for the last time. I left you there in the middle of the road, struggling all by yourself. The fact is, I left my life back there on that road.

I left just not a part of me, but my soul on those tracks and walked away.

You must have felt cheated, devastated. You must have put me in the category of cheats. Another cheat, and why would you not? I deserved to be thrown into trash. Not for a single reason, but for many others. You must have asked yourself million times, "Why did he go?". You must have questioned your conscious, your surroundings, your soul the reason of me walking away.

I walked away, without saying a word, without even telling you, your mistake.

You must have doubted your heart. Tears would have flown continuously.
That time, all I could do was to imagine your pain while I was somewhere else struggling.

I was not there to hold you as promised. I was not there to give you the courage as promised.

I was not there when you were crawling to disaster.

I was helpless. Yes, reading this you may think, I was selfish.

You must be thinking, even if I was helpless, I could have shared the problem with you.

But that was not to be.

I was helpless, I left you for a reason. I left you so that with me, darkness escapes your life.

I had written this letter to tell you for the last time,

I was not a cheat. Neither did I play with your feelings. I was not selfish.

I always wanted to stand with you. Be there with you in the times of pain.

To be there to wipe your tears. To make our dreams come true. Our future which we had planned together. I never wanted to step back but the god had already scripted my story.

No, I did not leave you for somebody else. I did not leave you stranded in the cold night to make myself comfortable.

I could not. You were my life and everything good that has ever happened to me.

You were my only source of happiness. You were the one for whom I had constructed my life. For whom the dreams were to be lived.

I had loved you.

I know you, I know your thoughts. I know what must have been going through your mind all this while and to clear those doubts, I had left this last letter for you.

You must have always wanted to know the reason I left you.

The reason was my love for you.

The reason was, that for my own comfort of few days, I could not destroy your life.

You read it right. Few days. I was dying.

I had cancer. The devastating disease.

By the time you finish reading this letter,

I would have already left this world for never to come back.

I walked away because Your happiness is all I ever sought.

And I kept my promise of loving you till my last breath.

For the last time,

I truly loved you...

and never doubt it please.

Yours forever...

She folded the letter which was wet by this time. Her tears had trailed through her eyes.

She kept the letter with her, looked up and said, "I always knew you loved me, but if you would have asked me once, I would have been ready to come with you. No matter where."

But words are never enough to compensate of the loss of someone. It is the feeling of regression that kills us. That feeling which knocks at the door asking," If only you could have held it tightly ".