New Endings

It was a night just like any other. He was wandering in the snow-covered streets of Brooklyn, New York. He appeared pensive and somewhat despondent. Tangled up in every curve of his brain, his thoughts did not seem to go away. For hours, he just walked and walked… All around him were familiar faces and places full of memories he no longer wished to recall. He was haunted by his past and the ever-growing feeling of despair. Life had been taking its toll on him for the past few years and he had started to find it hard to function properly. He examined each corner, each streetlight and every car parked through the street and he couldn’t help but remember that one person who had changed his life forever. They’d shared such short but unforgettable, sweet moments walking along that street. That is why he would find himself aimlessly walking there, whenever he reminisced about her.

He stopped in front of a vintage antique shop that he knew she frequented. He stared at the broken, flashing sign stating that the shop was open. When he moved closer, he heard familiar tunes coming from inside. He remembered those tunes from when she had played it for him. She was not only a pianist but also a connoisseur of music. His heart started to beat out of his chest. What if she was inside, playing the piano? Was he ready to face her after all those years they had spent apart? With shaky hands, he opened the old wooden door of the shop. The small bell atop the door made a soft ding sound, announcing his entrance. His sorrowful heart, still beating fast with the hope of seeing her, almost skipped a beat. He walked past the expensive antiques to the very back of the shop in which he knew the old, grand piano was located. When he finally took that last step which allowed him to see the piano, he was devastated. She was not there. It was only an old recording that was playing on repeat. He closed his eyes. He imagined her playing the piano. Her fingers tracing the keys, her soft skin, glowing in the dim light and her bright brown eyes, gleaming, full of life… He was having a hard time remembering her voice and it was killing him. He was desperately trying to hold onto whatever he had left in his memory alas, it was not working. It was only when he opened his eyes that he realized he had shed some tears.

He left the shop in a hurry, not knowing the next location he was going to wander off to. He felt miserable, desperate and torn apart. Her words spilled out of his memory and fell before him, creating an imaginary cage he was unable to escape from. I have to give up, he thought. Even if that meant losing the battle he was having with his heart. Maybe giving up is not always losing, he said to himself, and wandered off into the darkness once again.

“…but what is the explanation of the love itself, I really don’t know.” -Anton Chekhov
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