Hey Ginny! This one's for you !

 Prabhash.

The name alone feels like a balm — like someone whispering peace into my storm. It takes the weight off my chest, quiets the chaos in my mind, and fills the cracks in my heart with a kind of warmth I thought only existed in fairy tales.

I didn’t know it then — how could I? I was just a girl, naive, clumsy with love — but I had struck gold. On my very first try.
God doesn’t make men like him anymore.
He was, is, and always will be the definition of a “Man in Love.” And somehow, impossibly, I was the one lucky enough to be loved by him.

He tells me I brought light into his life, that I helped shape the man he became. But if I was a light, he was the sun — steady, unwavering, shining on the most broken parts of me.
He held space for my chaos, my indecision, my mess. He saw me at my worst, and loved me harder. He held faith in us, even when I wasn’t around to remind him we were real.

Fifteen years.
As someone once said — even Ram had a vanwaas for only fourteen.

How did two 19-year-old kids build a love so indestructible that it withstood time, distance, silence?
I don’t know. Maybe it was fate. Maybe karma. Maybe I did something good in a past life to deserve him — this man who trusted his whole heart with mine.

It all began with a phone call — one he says he made, though I remember it differently — and a beautiful boy I spotted in my batch, the one who made my heart skip.
Years later, I learned he had been watching me too.

Even now, that revelation gives me butterflies.

We held hands. We hugged. We laughed until our stomachs hurt. We cried into each other’s shoulders. We kissed like the world was ending. And every corridor of Mesra is a witness to our story — a story etched in quiet corners and glances that said more than words ever could.

I would wait for his classes to end. He’d keep checking the clock, knowing every second counted.
We were enough.

He was my friend. My secret-keeper. My lover. My future.
And when we grew older — when life stopped being a campus and started being a battlefield — he became the kind of man who gave everything to his woman.

He travelled hours, days, just for moments with me.
People say teenagers are selfish. But what we had? That was anything but selfish.
He had found his soulmate. And so had I.

But sometimes, life doesn’t break us with storms — it breaks us with silence.
I lost my way. I made decisions I’ll never stop regretting. I hurt him in a way I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

I want to rip my own heart out when I think of the pain I caused him.

And still, he stood there.
Like a rock.
Like a home.
With love brimming in his heart and my name still echoing in the chambers of it.

When destiny finally relented and we met again — in 2021 — he was no longer mine. He was married. He had two beautiful children.

I stared at him — at the man I had always loved — now someone’s husband, someone’s father.
And yet... the bond hadn’t frayed. It was still there, alive, aching quietly beneath the surface.

We tried to make sense of it all.
We tried to explain the "why."
But some truths don’t have answers — just heartbreak.

I can't write anymore.
It’s his birthday today.
And I’m not beside him.
Not because of distance.
Not because of fate.
But because sometimes the universe gives you a glimpse of heaven… and then takes it away.

I still ask myself — was I blessed to have experienced a love like his?
Or cursed to have lost it after knowing what it felt like?

Maybe I’ll never know.
But I do know this:
Loving him changed me. Losing him haunts me.
And somewhere, deep in the spaces where no one can see,
I will love him until the stars forget how to shine.

Happy Birthday, Prabhash.
You were the love of my life.
You still are.
You always will be.