Once upon a time, there lived a girl who couldn’t see.
Then came a boy who could see.
They bumped into each other, like any other love story.
Like any other love story, they fell in love as if it was all meant to be.
The boy loved the girl although she couldn’t see.
The girl loved the boy even though she couldn’t see.
Both of them spent some time together, in beaches, in empty rooms, in the park, and sometimes between the bricked alleys; whispering and laughing.
Those days were the best days of her life. She wished she could see him, and perhaps live with him for a lifetime.
But you don’t get everything what you ask for. Sometimes stories have to be left as tragic as they were. To give meaning to their life, to give emotions to their feelings.
One day, the boy hugged the girl. That day she wanted to repeat. She wanted to be in a loop.
Then one day, he kissed her on the cheek. Oh, how she wanted to stop time in that moment and feel the warmth of his lips.
She cried that day. He wiped her tears. She didn’t feel bad that she couldn’t see, but she felt bad for him that he fell in love with her. With a blind girl who would one day eventually fall down and wouldn’t be back up on her feet.
A few days passed, the boy didn’t meet her. She asked the nurse where he was, the nurse said he was resting because of his sickness.
She asked the nurse to take her to him, she refused to do so and walked away.
The girl waited for a few more days. It was painful, her chest was tightening, but she stayed on her bed anyway.
She didn’t know his name. He didn’t know her name. They were just strangers who were strangely in love. Their hearts were stitched.
Like a rag doll they were left aside.
Weeks passed and she asked the nurse again if she could see the boy.
The nurse held the girls hand, touched her cheek and said that he had passed away.
The girl froze in distress, her heart melted away, her sorrows fell down, her body sank below.
She couldn’t believe it, she didn’t want. She loved the boy as if he was a part of her soul, she loved the boy so much that she wished she could die.
But suicide wasn’t a choice. She had to live to keep his memories.
Memories that meant the world to her, that meant the galaxy and the entire sea.
She cried day and night, the nurse became afraid that one day she might die. She caressed the girl’s hair, took care of her really well.
But her tears won’t stop, eventually, like the boy, the girl passed away.