The Art of Closure and Acceptance

I. Closure

Amidst the crowd of people passing by, they stood there. They stared at each other's familiar face as if seeing it for the first time.

It is the first time.

He stared at her as the light in a nearby lamppost played with her feature's shadow. He stared at her quivering lips and her flushed face as the cold of the night caress her. Oh, how he longed to tuck that loose strand of hair between her ears and wipe those pearls-like tears welling up in the corner of her eyes.

He stared at her... at her beautiful physique that runs deep.

She, on the other hand, watched as different emotions dawned in his eyes. Anger, sadness, relief... regrets. How she hates to be the reason behind those shifting moods.

But no matter what they feel or what they think, they let their words and actions betray them. 

They stood there, motionless, voiceless, memorizing every single detail as though it will be the last time.

It is the last time.

He reached out his hand to touch her, to feel her even once.

She waited... She waited for the strange yet familiar warmth only he can provide.

But they knew better. They knew more than anyone else in this world. They mustn't.

And so he stopped midway.

And she stopped waiting.

Because both of them knew what love is. They both knew that love is not giving up when things doesn't go as you expected it. It is about fighting, hoping and trying to save any speck of feelings there is. Yes, that's love.

But they gave up.

For both of them knew that, that's love, too; a greater one.