You can't force love

Chapter 19 - Approach of the storm

Chill coming with a wind, a man alone stood out of the town. In a meadow, never luminated by the moon, for he was at that part where clouds
obscured the shine.

Wind blew, grass danced, owls weren't heard. Nothing was heard. Everything was silent.

Everything, but his beating and screaming heart.

He didn't know how long he was there, he never counted seconds. It didn't matter at all, he wanted to be alone.

To collect his thoughts, to calm his heart.

And to not let the grief swallow him.

Fight prolonged even when clouds dispersed. Fight harrowing and excruciating. Because a fight with one's own mind and being, are the hardest battles in one's life.

It calmed down, his consciousness telling him that it is worth living. Because... in the end... he had a great family.

He had alive parents, both loving and dear. He had many siblings whom he loved greatly. It always gave him a rest - a cognition that those people exist. People who were his own blood, who were so helping and understanding, but strict when they cared about his well-being.

He had friends as well, the ones who wronged him at first, but never did anything to hurt him. They even wanted to correct their mistakes, but fate was the one who decided. He wasn't angry at them - he would have done the same.

So what could he ask more than that? Loving a person of your heart is beautiful, it is painful yet splendid in its own way, but he knew he could always have a place to return to. Place where he is unconditionally loved, a place he calls home.

Relief was great, as was the urge to go to them, but... that would be running away.

Or it wouldn't be?

Humans have a habit of going where they feel safe. It is in their nature. But that way, he would not be distinguished from the animal.

Though... would that really matter? Why would a human being abnegate itself of its instincts that tell them to do something other people call cowardly? Where is their right to resent, to talk, to judge?

No, he would not go home. He needs to see and let go. If he runs away, it would only be worse.

He needs to get used to it, to convalesce, to get better, to forget.

Not completely, but enough at the beginning.

And he hoped, one day, that he would watch their children without remembering the pain.

Like someone from the above had heard his desperate calls, a lone star cut though the firmament, catching the man's eyes. They shone, his heart jumped and he had no doubts of his next thoughts and wishes.

"God, please let her be happy."

And like that, a weird sort of happiness overwhelmed the man who shed tears and fell onto his knees.

Relief washed over him, because he knew that his soul remained pure. He had no ill intentions, not even when he got a chance to make one, just one selfish wish. He was happy and sad, but he was glad.

He remained the same man he was, and at that moment he found himself foolish to think that would change.

.

.

.

"Maria and I are getting married next month!"