...of love, and things meant to be

It is 3:30 in the morning and she is sitting there staring at me and won't let me go to sleep till I tell you her story...

They were people of the mountains. Had known each other since they were kids. They were neighbours. It was getting late and the storm was almost at their doorstep. He had to leave for his home. Her mother didn't want the two of them to be in the same house till they were married, she believed it will bring bad luck. They never said goodbye to each other. They had decided long ago. They'll never say it. Their eyes met for that brief moment and all that could be said was rendered worthless.

Although, the basic structure of their homes was made of bricks and stones a part of it was put together with temporary things such as sheets of tarpaulin. He had to fasten it to the ground before the storm hit. Tourists always wondered how can these locals live at such treacherous locations with the blind corner of the road on one side and the deep gorge on the other. He had been walking this edge for time immemorial. And never thought two ways about it. It was dark and he had to feel his way to the large stone the kept as a weight to fasten the tarp to the ground.

The raindrops were mixing with the earth. His foot slipped. all he could think about was the smile in her eyes when he last saw her. The words he longed to hear. The words he knew that were about to escape her lips. They had never actually told each other about it. They had known. How he wished he had told her. Just once.

They found his body a kilometer downstream. She didn't cry. She knew they were meant to be. She knew he couldn't leave her without at least telling her what everyone knew. You might see her the next time you go there. She is the pretty one. The one who seems to be waiting. Waiting for what was meant to be...