Undying Love: Maria the Orphan

I'm not well today. A tightness grips my soul as I whisper to myself, *How will I manage to live without Jack?* I've grown so accustomed to his presence; the thought of his departure is unbearable. If his sun sets on my sky, darkness will follow me wherever I go. 

I hate goodbyes. You don't say farewell to those you love; their souls remain with you. Even if Jack is distanced by miles, his love will stay a homeland in my eyes, his dreams a resident in my chest, filling me with hope. The traces of his scent will linger, for it once filled my heart completely. 

While at work, as usual, sorting through files and tackling the urgent tasks demanded by my boss, my phone rang. It was Jack. He told me he was packing to return to his country and wanted me to accompany him to the airport early in the morning. I knew he would leave, so I wasn't surprised, but an overwhelming desire to cry and scream surged within me. I wished I could unleash a storm that would shake the foundations of our love, just to find some release and ease the burden pressing on my chest. 

That morning, I woke up not for work but to bid farewell to Jack and to a love that hadn't been blessed with time. It passed like a fleeting shadow. I cursed farewells for robbing me of my beloved. I dressed quickly, grabbed a hurried breakfast, and rushed to meet him. 

I found him standing at the hotel door, suitcase in hand. I forced a smile onto my face to hide the sadness buried deep inside. We took a taxi, and within minutes, we were at the airport, with an hour to spare before his flight. 

We sat together, sipping coffee, enveloped in silence. It was a moment charged with emotion, where words felt unnecessary. Silence, in such times, can be the most genuine balm for hearts weathering the storm of farewell. As the saying goes, silence often becomes the medicine of lovers and exiles alike. 

Time flew by, as if rushing to take away a piece of me. A single tear escaped down my cheek despite my efforts to hold it back. He gently wiped it away, reassuring me that he wouldn't abandon me, that he would always check on me because I had become part of him. Yet, a strange coldness crept over me. I didn't feel comforted. His lack of visible emotion in that moment of farewell unsettled me. 

Women are often ruled by their emotions, shaped by their nurturing nature, making them more expressive than men, who tend to suppress their feelings, revealing them only when absolutely necessary. Perhaps Jack didn't want to show weakness and chose instead to mask his emotions with strength to get through this moment. 

Jack rose from his seat to bid me farewell and catch his flight. I threw myself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably, but he had to go. He waved until he vanished from sight. The plane took off, carrying my heart away with it, leaving behind an empty shell of a body—like a ghost, stunned by the shock of separation. 

I returned home, weighed down by sorrow. His presence had become such an integral part of my life that his absence left an unfillable void. Time dragged slowly, deepening my grief and despair. My mother and Sophie noticed my melancholy and tried to console me in every way, but to no avail. 

Even my appetite had deserted me. I barely touched my food before retreating to my room, seeking solace in sleep. Sleep had always been my refuge, shielding me from myself and the thoughts that haunted me when life became overwhelming. It was an escape, a comfort—if insomnia didn't come to torment me, stealing the reprieve that sleep provides, allowing me to forget, if only for a few hours, that I exist. 

But sleep eluded me, as I feared it would. I held a picture of my father, confiding in him about my heartbreak. As I sat there, lost in my grief, I heard soft footsteps and found my mother beside me. She understood my pain and had come to check on me. 

Mothers are forever the gentle smile that lifts you from your sorrows. She pulled me into her embrace and began to recount her delightful stories until sleep finally overcame me. For a few hours, I escaped to the realm of forgetfulness—forgetting everything, what had been and what was to come. Surely, life holds surprises in store for me; I only hope they don't oppose my desires, lest I be let down again. 

I fear the unknown that may transform our love into a mere memory, recalled only by accident from time to time. 

For when we said goodbye, I felt as if our love, too, had packed its bags. 

There are forces in life that choose us, dictating our path. 

They grant us stolen moments of happiness, preparing us for the ache of parting and the longing that follows. 

My intuition never fails me. In bidding Jack farewell, something felt undeniably broken.