Our Love in the Stars

That night, I found time to look at the stars after a while. That night, she left me. 

The stars had never looked more beautiful; neither had they ever looked more sorrowful. Perhaps the glint of regret was mine and not theirs. But the sorrow was made the stars more appealing than they had ever appeared to be. 

I‌ did not want to leave her, even though I knew she eventually would. During our last days, we did not speak much. We talked, but did not speak - the words were always the result of second thoughts, the feelings hesitant to be expressed, and intentions meant to be read between the lines. Perhaps I‌ did not know her anymore, but I knew neither did she want to leave, even though she knew I‌ eventually would. 

I have never fallen for people at first sight. An acclaimed romantic in my college, I‌ had an affinity for big gestures in both love and life, but my nature dictated me to be careful in any endeavours. An appreciation for beauty was layered with an understanding that love was too precious a concept to associate with the slightest of affection. But as my luck would have it, the more precise thing would be to say that I was an acclaimed hopeless romantic in my college. 

It was not that I did not try my hand at wooing the budding women who inhabited the girl’s hostel on the other side of the campus. But as a budding man myself, I always tried to prioritise my studies and friends - they were what college life was worth living for, everyone had told me. It had turned out to be true for me as well. A partner would be an additional aspect of my life, but if only circumstances allowed so. They did not for the first two years, despite me being the student of a liberal arts university where many girls became friends with me. It was not that I did not fancy any of my classmates, but nothing had ever presented itself as what could be called an opportunity. While the idea of a partner was appealing, I‌ accepted it to be utopic only as long as it remained as an abstract concept. Hence, the desire to find a girlfriend had never empowered me. 

I spent most of my time in classrooms, at the canteen, in the hostel, and in the vicinity of the campus on the weekends, not necessarily in that order. Time may not always have been productive, but I‌ created the best memories I could. My grades were enough to keep my professors satisfied, if not my parents back home, because the latter never were. My friendships were good, my present was happy, and my future was encouraging. 

Then, I met her. Of course, she had always been around. But being the unassuming person I later found out she inherently was, we had never crossed paths. Neither of us were big fans of the college fests. I went to them, but participating in it needed too many contacts and too much effort for my fancy. Being in the audience is sometimes the smartest option. 

We met only because one of her friends had left her notes with me. I‌ could very well have been away in one of my friend’s rooms. I‌ could very well just have been in the washroom. My partner would have given her the notes then. But things were what they were meant to be - I met her. 

Again, it was not love at first sight. As I looked at the stars now, I wondered if there ever had been love between us. I‌ could not feel it at that moment, not then, not there. Later, I would realise I was being too harsh on both myself and love - there had been love throughout, even though it evolved. 

First, there was friendship, and a love which lurked around the surface of any familiar acquaintance. We had talked that day in the room, and something had just struck. She had taken my number, even if under the ruse of keeping it in case it turned out I had forgotten to return any pages from the notes. A lousy excuse did not get in the way of conversation, which were initiated over text messages. We shared a handful of same papers. I had seen her before, but she had never caught my eye before. After we started talking, she did. 

Her eyes were as bright as the stars. Unlike the sky, I soon grew a habit of looking at her. The dimples which inhabited them were like the flashes of brightness across the night sky. The shooting stars which I would wish upon. It was only a few months later when I saw her smile at something I said when I realised I‌ would wish upon them for her to be my girlfriend. 

We took our time. Neither of us were straightforward. All of my friends knew it was not just a friendship; everyone except the both of us. We knew it too, but did not want to accept it. The price of open acceptance, unlike what the books might tell us, is sometimes greater to pay for than silent ignorance of feelings. 

But truth is like the morning hue of the clouds - it is bound to come around sooner rather than later. When I confessed, she was silent. We did not talk anymore that night. When I opened my phone the next morning, she had confessed too. 

We were in the final year of our preparations when the relationship bloomed. She was a constant support, and understood me well. Getting good grades and better jobs would be our priorities. This unspoken bond was what helped us get through the periods when the academics did not allow us to speak much or at all. Other people might have fallen apart, but we grew only stronger. 

We did not talk about our future. We were the kind of people who could talk for hours about ideas, about memories, and about lessons - but never the future. The future had not happened for a reason. Speculating about the unknown had never stuck my rationale. 

It was at the start of our final semester that we talked about what would happen to us for the first time. We would not mind getting placements in the same company. Yet, we were rational enough to know this would not happen. Finding jobs through the campus selections in the same city would not be possible either. After thinking about it a while, and talking about it for a while more, we knew there could be nothing we could do. On one weekend, I took her on a final visit to the outskirts of the city. It looked as beautiful as ever, and so did she. Then, we made love for the only time we were together. 

And now, I stood underneath the stars. I do not remember when her last text came. She did not say much. She did not need to. It was for the best. A “goodbye” is what would perhaps be the last words we ever said to each other. I was now blocked on her phone. Once I moved from the window, perhaps I‌ would block her too. Only a few weeks were left till graduation. Nothing was supposed to remain between us after it took place anyways - at least, that is what I shall tell myself now. 

The stars were as sad yet as bright as her eyes when we met for the last time yesterday. What had to be done, she said, had been done. I‌ did not talk about it with her anymore. I had volunteered to help her, but she insisted not to compromise any other person in what had taken place. I could have been the bigger man, the chivalrous man, but something within me held me back. Perhaps, it had been for the best. Again, it would be what I told myself now. 

The lights in the room had been put out long before. My roommate had gone to bed early tonight. And as I looked out of the window, all by myself for the first time in a long time, I felt … nothing. The celestial bodies of my admiration, I realised now, were long dead. There was a lesson in that, but I left it for another time. 

I looked at one of the stars, which shone brighter than the rest. It stood out. “Goodbye”, I‌ told it too. And across it flew a shooting star. I‌ wished upon it a safe passage to heaven for our aborted child. May our love rest in peace along with it.