Eternal Love

It was a quiet, drizzly evening. The sky seemed unusually emotional—clouded, with occasional flashes of lightning and soft thunder rumbling in the distance. In a small corner café of the city, Arnob sat alone. Steam rose from his teacup, but his eyes remained fixed on the door.

Today, he was waiting for Trisha. They hadn’t seen each other in five years. After all this time, it was Trisha who had reached out and asked to meet.

Trisha was Arnob’s first love. They met at the beginning of university. Over time, their friendship blossomed into something deeper. Arnob was quiet and introspective, while Trisha was full of life—bubbly, spontaneous, and dream-filled. Together, they felt complete.

But life rarely follows the script of a love story.

In their final year, Trisha’s family suddenly decided to move abroad. It was unexpected. Trisha made the painful decision to end the relationship, believing it was the right thing to do. She said she needed to focus on her future, that long-distance relationships don’t survive, and Arnob’s career was still uncertain.

Arnob wanted to hold on. But Trisha’s words that day still echoed in his mind:
**“Love means freedom, not burden. If it’s meant to be, we’ll meet again someday.”**

And then, she was gone.

Five long years passed. Arnob built his career, settled into a quiet life, but the space Trisha left behind remained empty. Her absence became a constant companion.

Then, one day, a message arrived:
**“Arnob, if you have time, can we meet? There’s something I need to say.”**

And now, here he was—waiting, uncertain, his heart pounding louder than the rain outside.

Suddenly, the café door chimed. Trisha walked in.

She looked almost the same—perhaps more mature, with a calm serenity on her face and a hint of weariness in her eyes. Arnob stood up.

“Trisha…” he said, almost in disbelief.

“Hi, Arnob,” she smiled softly. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine. But better now that you’re here.”

They sat down. A quiet pause followed, filled only by the soft clinking of cups and the rain tapping against the windows.

“I know I left without giving you a proper explanation,” Trisha said. “It was a tough time... for both of us.”

Arnob looked at her silently. She continued, “I thought that distance would make things easier. I was wrong. The day I left, I realized I’d left behind more than just a relationship—I’d left behind a part of myself.”

Arnob’s voice trembled slightly. “Then why now, after all this time?”

She gave a faint smile. “Because I couldn’t keep lying to myself anymore. I tried to move on. I thought if I buried my feelings deep enough, they’d disappear. But they didn’t. I kept thinking about you. I watched your little updates from afar. And one day I realized—I had to come back. Not for closure, but to ask... can we begin again?”

Arnob felt a storm rise inside him. “Five years is a long time, Trisha.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But does love really fade with time? I don’t want to carry this weight anymore. If you can forgive me... if there’s still space in your heart... I’d like to try again.”

There were tears in her eyes. Arnob felt his own vision blur.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered. “Every day, I hoped we’d meet again. I just never thought it would actually happen.”

Silence fell between them again. But this time, it wasn’t heavy with pain—it was filled with understanding, acceptance, and something new: **hope**.

That evening, between sips of tea and the soft rhythm of falling rain, a new story quietly began.

Love comes in many forms. Some fade with time. Others survive distance, silence, and separation. Arnob and Trisha’s story was one of the rare ones—a love that paused, only to return stronger.