And while she was holding the dingy old yellow page of his letter, she read "I don't know what love is all about, all I know is that if I survive this pain, you would be the first and last choice of mine, to be with".
Shore waters kept intermittently swaying her skirt, and refreshing those memories, thus leaving a part of her presence wash off everytime with the waters of sea. A deep breathe, followed by relief and unnoticed silence. This time they were together and that too forever.
Not every story of love is written or known to.
Not all the stories encourage to love more.
These stories die undisturbed, and their love creates no harm.