July 15th, 1944

July 15th, 19441

She still thinks about it. Each day, she thinks of his face. How his eyes crinkled when he smiled that rare smile. The deep, rich laughter that rumbled from his chest when something made him laugh. How his forehead would wrinkle in concentration when faced with a puzzle. And his eyes. His dark, dark eyes that she could lose herself in. She thought of his haunting eyes the most. The eyes that could see into her very soul, exposing her, probing her, reading her every thought. 2

She still thinks about his arms, his legs, his entire body. The strength in his tightly wound muscles, his sinewy form. His slight build, but so strong that he could overpower her in a second. He was a survivor, a fighter. His resilience showed in the scars that marred his back. But she never saw them as ugly. On the contrary, they showed his courage, strength- everything that made him beautiful. His scars were a part of him, and she loved every inch of him.3

She still thinks about his mind. His incredibly genius mind. So ruled by calculating logic, he was always many steps ahead of the curve. She could count on him for his intelligence, and it was in his ideas and innovations that she saw his amazing intellect. His mind had never failed him, never failed her. 4

And she still thinks about how his face, his body, and his mind crumpled that day. That day when she packed her bags and left. July 15th, 1944. She still thinks about how she saw her rock, the strongest man she ever knew, crumple and fall before her as she left him. And she thinks about how her own mouth spoke words she never knew she had inside her. Spoke the necessary words for him to let her go, spoke the words that would tear her heart in two but perhaps cleanly cut his in half. And you know what they say about a clean cut- it heals faster.
As for her own heart? It didn’t matter. He was everything to her, but he couldn’t know that anymore. She had to let him go. She had to let him move on. There would be only one of him, but perhaps, there could be more girls for him.5

The thought alone caused her chest to heave and her lungs to fail her. 6

So she left. She boarded that train and left. And years later, she married. Married a man the opposite of the only one she ever loved. He was comical, sweet to everyone, and a joker. He was the class clown, the puppy dog everyone liked. But love had no place in this marriage.
And as her kids grew, and left for school, she grew old and as the number of family members grew, she became lonelier. More isolated, more cold, more distant. Nothing could thaw her heart. She didn’t believe she had a heart. She had torn it apart and left it with a man she hadn’t seen in 60 years.
And every day she thought of him. Thought of the life that could have been, thought of the kids they would’ve had, what their names would have been. And every day that she continued to love him and no one else was another day she knew she’d made a mistake. 7

So, 60 years later, she went back. She said goodbye to her Alzheimer-inflicted husband (who wouldn’t notice her disappearance tomorrow), and left. She got on that plane and flew back to the only place she had called home.
And as she knocked on the door, she noticed that the house was uninhabited. It looked like she imagined her insides to look- run down, worn with age and missing companionship.
So she walked, looking for the answers. Using her cane for the only support left, she walked in the rain, water droplets masking the tears on her weathered skin. She needed to find answers.8

And in the cemetery near his house, she found them. An old, weathered tombstone that had his name engraved and his date of birth. But what shocked her most was not the existence of the tombstone, but the date of death. 9

July 15th, 1944.10

The same day she had left him. It couldn’t be linked, she wouldn’t allow it. But as her watery eyes made their way across the inscription, her broken heart drummed its final beats.11

In despair, he took his life. His parting words, “I hope you are happy, my dearest.” May you rest in peace forever. 12

And as she lay down on the ground where her lover rot in the ground, she sobbed her heart out, crying for the first time in six decades. The emotions rushed back and as her chest heaved with the shock and anguish of it all, she breathed her last breaths atop him.13

It might have been her failing heart, or perhaps the rush of emotions alone that killed her. But she was dead, and he had been for quite some time. And in the end, it was all for nothing.