It was a winter morning, two years back that I first met her. As I jogged through the dimly lit streets, I saw her sitting on one of the many benches that were scattered across the boulevard. She saw me looking at her, and smiled. I knew I was in love that very moment.
The next day, I saw her again on that very same bench. The day before, I had jogged off gifting a half smile. That day however, I went and sat next to her. I introduced myself. Her name was Kate, she told me. She lived in my neighborhood too apparently. We talked a while, and I worked up the courage to ask her out. She laughed, and then told yes.
In the evening, I took her out to the neighborhood pizza parlor. She had told of her craze for pizzas, and she was happy when we entered the place. While we waited, we talked more. She went to the same college as I did, though to a different department and block. I’d not seen her, but she had seen me. The jukebox in the parlor struck up a slow tune, and I asked her to dance with me. We did, and we had fun. We went out later and sat at that same bench. “Kate, I love you”, I whispered in her ear. She smiled, said those three words back to me. We kissed in the light of the moon.
Time flew, as it does in love. A year on, we sat at that bench again, still happy. I’d asked her to marry me after we graduated in a few days, and she’d told yes. Fate however overturned our love. As she walked away that night, little did I know she would never return again. A car sped past me, two screams of pain; she was taken by God before we were joined.
I’ve tried to forget, yet some memories never die. It has been a year since she passed away. As I jog, the clouds gather mirroring my mind. I sit on that very bench. I look at the sky. A gap appears in the clouds, a ray of light passes through. I know she’s smiling at me.