But who am I supposed to talk to?
What am I supposed to do?
If there is no you…

-Taylor Swift (Soon You’ll Get Better)

“They say souls are made of stardust. We are made of stardust. You see those stars that you love a lot? They are a part of you. They are you. So why don’t you love yourself? Why don’t you look at yourself with the same amazement as you look at the stars? You look at the stars when you are lost, begging for a way, a signal. Why don’t you look inside yourself for that sign, for the way?”

“You do know that stars die, right? That’s where stardust comes from. Spontaneous Combustion.”

“Why don’t you ever just let me be philosophical? Do you have to bring in your reasoning every time?

“Well, I am not stopping you from being philosophical. I just want you to be correct. At least in what we know.”

“Why don’t you love me?”

“I thought we had decided not to ask that anymore?”

“But it’s “logical”. You love logic so much. So hear me out. We’ll be perfect together. We are so good together. You like what I like. We even drink the same kind of coffee. Like the same music. Read the same books…”

“Let me interrupt you there; having similar interests doesn’t mean being compatible. Yeah, some common interests are needed, but if we like the same things all the time, we won’t argue. We won’t compromise or discover anything new. We’d be stuck in the same rut. With the same song. Same book. Boring the hell out of each other with nothing to talk about.”

“You are the first girl I have met who wants arguments in relationships.”

“Well, it’s necessary. That’s how we evolve, no?”

“I don’t know all that. All I know is that I really like you. I like spending time with you. I love talking to you, telling you about my day ‘arguing’ with you.”

“You love who I am to you. You don’t love me. You love this idea of me that you have created in your head. You don’t love me. You need to find someone else. It’s not good to hold on to me.”

“But you are perfect. Where will I find someone like you…?”

“I am perfect because you made me up. Go out. Meet new people. Talk to them. You’ll find someone. Someone real. Who doesn’t live in your imagination? You need to let me go.”

“But I can’t do that. Because if I let you go, then I’ll be giving up on you again. You’d still be here with me if I hadn’t…”

He waited for her reply. A reply which never came.

“I know I need to let you go. I just don’t know who I’ll be without you. It’s been 6 years, 6 years, that I spent repenting giving up on you. Maybe, just maybe, if I had picked up that call, you would still be here with me. But I promise you, I won’t give up on you again. How could you ever imagine that I’d be better of without you? There is no me without you. I am you, and you are… were me. I ended with you. But I’ll go around, out in the crowd again, pretending to believe that I’ll find you somewhere again… And listen to me, if I, by chance, do find you… I am never letting you go. You can’t make me.”

He looked at the stone in front of him with tears glistening in his eyes. He removed the dried up flowers and put fresh lilies in the bottle by her grave. Kissed it, got up and left.

“I won’t let you go again.”