Beneath the Willow Tree

It was raining when Maya first saw Elias. She was seventeen and was sitting in the middle of the park under a willow tree, clutching a wet paperback and cursing the weather. She couldn't get home without getting completely soaked because her umbrella had broken in the wind. That's when tall, quiet Elias showed up, holding a red umbrella like a sword of salvation. His voice was as soft as the rain and he said, "You look like you could use a rescue." She was startled and looked up. He smiled with genuine warmth, not in a mocking manner. He moved closer without waiting for her response and extended the umbrella to cover them both. "This is Elias." “Maya.”

A story began under the drooping branches of a willow tree in a flash. They did not immediately fall in love. In most cases, life is not like that. But that day, something clicked—a barely visible thread that was just beginning to close around two hearts. Every week, Elias began meeting her there, sometimes with coffee and other times just stories. He would talk about the poems he liked, the books he read, and the dreams he didn't think he could pursue. Maya listened, chuckled, and gradually opened up. She talked to him about her fear of being ordinary and her messy sketches. Concerning her parents' constant demand for perfection. Elias never held opinions. He simply and truly listened, and sometimes all a person needs is that. Seasonal shifts occurred. As the weather warmed up in the summer, their gatherings became more frequent. Walks, shared milkshakes, and fleeting glances were among the activities. Maya sketched him more than anything else by fall, but she never showed him. Elias then gave her a kiss one October evening under the same willow tree where they first met. It seemed as though they were both trying to be careful with something delicate, which was gentle and shy. He whispered, "I think I've loved you since the first time I saw you." She was stumped on what to say. She was afraid of the truth, not because she didn't feel the same. They spent two more years together, which were full of laughter, development, and a few small heartbreaks like missing birthdays, small fights, and times of doubt. However, they always returned to one another. Up until the day Elias left for a different city's university. They said they would keep in touch by writing, calling, and visiting frequently. And they did for a while. However, time has a cruel way of eroding the bonds that unite people. Texts replaced calls. Texts ceased to exist. In addition, one day, Maya found herself back at the willow tree by herself, perplexed as to how something that seemed so inexhaustible could vanish. The time passed. Maya pursued her dream of becoming an artist, and her sketches were displayed in galleries. However, no matter how many faces she sketched, she was unable to quite capture his warm, wild, and awe-inspiring appearance. She had a few relationships. However, nobody ever felt like him. Ten years after that rainy day, she went back to the park on a spring morning. No reason at all. Maybe it's just nostalgia. She sat in the shade of the older willow tree, its branches drooping as if exhausted from holding so many memories. “Maya?”

She noticed him when she looked up. Elias.

slightly older. around the eyes, a little more worn out. Still, he is him. He stated, "I thought I'd find you here." She held her breath as she stared at him. "You returned." He said quietly, "I never really left." "Not right now." He gave him a chest rub. They were slow to break the silence. Under the willow tree, they just sat there and let the past and the present meet in a soft, golden moment. She finally asked, barely speaking, "Do you think we could try again?" He tried to grab her hand. I had hoped that you would say that. Their story began all over again under the same tree where it all began. not in their current state. But precisely where they were supposed to be.