I loved the street where I grew up. It has a lot of memories that are dear to my heart. I had my first fall, found my first friend and my first bicycle ride all in that very street. All these memories bring a tear of joy every time I remember them.

It was a Christmas morning two years ago. I awoke to find the snow falling outside and the dew on the decorated Christmas trees shining in the morning sun. The snow, it made me smile. I was 25 years old, yet when it snowed; it made me feel like a kid again, made me want to play in it, build a snowman with stony eyes and a carrot for a nose. I went out, and my golden retriever Drop bounded out after me. As I walked toward her home, I saw the neighbor’s children all playing snow wars, pelting each other with snowballs. I had met her just a few months back, but our relationship had grown steady and I had proposed to her a week back. She was the one, I knew it. I had never felt that heartbeat go so fast before. It happened every time I met her. Her laughter, the twinkle in her eyes… every moment I spent with her, I was realizing that I wanted to spend the rest of my moments with her only. Blissful feeling it is… love.

I saw her coming out of the door. I called out to her. She smiled and ran into my arms. I wished her a Merry Christmas, and she put a small gift into my pocket. I didn’t open it. We just stood there, holding each other and putting a lot of unsaid love into the hug. I leant toward her ear, and whispered, “I love you”. She never said anything back. I gently took her head and thought I’d say it again, looking into her eyes. They were fixed, staring into the rising sun. They’d never blink again. Tears began to flow out of my eyes. A moment later, and my cry of pain, of mourning echoed into the silent morning. She had sailed into the sunset, leaving me alone.

I opened the gift. It was a locket, a heart shaped locket, which opened to show me her beautiful face. On its back, engraved were the words:

Even if I die, I am with you,
Looking at you, from above,
For you were, are, shall be,
Forever my love, my only love.

We may have many cherished memories.
Yet the memories more cherished aren’t always the one that we recollect with ease.

Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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