As I lay here, on my death bed, I would like to share my last wish with you. It’s no surprise that my body will soon wither away, just like the bunch of roses you offered me to take to the grave as a farewell present. So I request you to pick one of the finest roses in the lot and keep it in your shirt pocket, while everyone else is busy with the formalities.
After all the rituals are over, and you head back home, I want you to cry your eyes out. I will not stop you from spilling your emotions because just like the spell of rain ends, so will your grief. As soon as your heart begins to feel better, let your mind take charge of your actions. Change the bed sheets and your pillow covers, and open the curtains. Take a shower, and put on some fresh clothes. You can channel all your thoughts towards your heart right after you do this.
Seems easy, right? I hate to break it to you, but this is only 50% of the task that I have asked you to carry out for my dying soul. You might feel reluctant at first and you have every right to deny my request, but I have valid reasons to still put it forward. Besides, I won’t even be alive to see your bitter reaction. *Inserts tongue out emoticon here*
I suppose you’re all set to go to work. Well, Don’t. You will, however, need to step out to fulfil my desire. Don’t use your car, honey. Go on foot. And don’t forget to carry the rose I told you to pick. It is alright if it has wilted because it will hold more significance this way. You’ll know how shortly.
Now head towards the market area, and turn right after three blocks.
There. I don’t think I need to guide you further. You know which door to knock.
Don’t be afraid. She will let you come in. There is no need to inform her about my demise. The news would have reached her anyway. Once you both are done with the awkward exchanges, I will need you to offer that very same rose to her.
Look, she might get mad at first, but she will cool down too. Don’t let her series of insults get to your heart. Those are just bottled up emotions flowing out. But whatever her decision may be, make sure she does accept the rose. That will give her something to think about.
We both were connected, but we didn’t have the luck.
You both had a spark, and now you’re getting another chance to rekindle it.
And as funny as this may sound- I trust her. I trust her because poetry runs in her veins too, and misjudging a writer’s heart is completely out of the question. I know she still has a drawer somewhere in the corner of her house that is devoted to you, even though it might be jammed due to brushed off thoughts. And I also refuse to believe that she is embarrassed by those cheesy couplets she wrote for you back then.
Now that I’ve stated my reasons, please be patient. She will respond. And your love will blossom again, just like old times.
In a few minutes from now, my heart won’t be here to get hurt by your choice, but my soul will ache if it sees yours wandering alone.
Go back to your old lover, my dear. Cherish her. Say you’ll marry her, and mean it this time.
Basically, give her my share of your love.
This is me, signing off from your love.
|Be her immortal now
(Picture credits: Unknown; Source: We heart it)