If love is not about red hearts or balloons or chocolates or dresses or songs or dance or champagnes, then what is it about? About something that is not mortal? About something that is not a mere emotion or a feeling but a life in itself? Love is the power, love is the devastation. Love is a healer, love is a weakner. Love can take all and leave one with nothing, yet there always is a craving for it somewhere in there.
This Valentine’s Day, I would like to present a story of love, if one may call it so, to you. It is a story that I had written last year and posted here last January. If you hadn’t then, do read it this year, and let me know what love is to you, what this ‘Immortal Love’ is to you.
Out of thousands of days that you live, some days are special, days that are unforgettable, days that are cherished forever.
When I woke up that day, I knew how different it was going to be. After all, it was our anniversary. And, like always, I and Jackson had our plans. Sunrays sneaked in through curtains that morning trying to snoop into my privacy, and I turned to bed’s other side to feel Jackson. For a moment, I froze not finding him there but hearing water run in the bathroom relaxed me. It was already 7:30. I got up and rushed to the kitchen because I knew how much Jackson loves to have his toast, omelet and coffee as soon as he gets out of bathroom.
Just when I thought the day was going to be perfect, I burnt the omelet. There could have been a chance of preparing another…
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