He is there, still living parallel lives.. loving, hating, smiling, and crying.
the protagonist, She is.. trapped by ideology, opportunity and lack of expression.
There are certain songs that make you cry. She doesn’t sing them, she plays them again and again and again in her head.
He holds a grudge against her. She sometimes writes poetry about him.
She often dreamt of meeting him on a rainy day with red roses; walking hand-in-hand to lonely alleyways.. rushing to smell of the rain and each other.
He often dreamt of lonely dark rooms; hoping for someone to arrive.. rescue him from the darkness.
They would’ve probably been in love.
But, She is trapped in her ideology; and He in his inner demons.
Now, She has found another dream.
And, He another port.
Now, there are no sudden bouts of passion on lazy summer afternoons.
There is no sarcasm, no flirting and no silly conversations.
She is living a could-have-been,
She does not write any longer.
hundreds of kilometres away.
He does not sing any more.
The distance is their loss as they do not travel to cover that.