Love Letter Written in Winter

Dedication

To everyone who fell in love madly with a person who wasn’t their destiny and lost something or everything.

May you never cross path with the love that is not meant for you.

Preface :

I still remember her last scene. A cold dead body was lying in the floor. A patch of blood came out of her mouth as the reaction of the poison she had taken maybe. But the blood and her deep red lipstick blended so well that even the blood seemed to enhance her aura. Before having the last wine ever, she had got herself look perfect exactly the way she always looked. Her cold eyes were still open. Still those movement less blue eyes seemed to be more glorious than many alive people. Her eye-liner was very nicely drawn. As if she was a painting, Those large dotted eyes, heart shaped crimson lips, pink cheeks looked like petal. She was wearing an off-shoulder multi-layer milky-white dress. Those white roses on her shoulder was complementing her red lips. Her long wavy hairs conquered quite a place of the floor, while some strands of hair was falling over her beautiful face, some were resting gently over her neck and chest area. Whole room was smelling like a rose garden. Ahh !! that very iconic perfume of her. I could never imagine a crime scene could look this poetic. Some letters were lying on the top of cupboard. I knew for whom it was !! But I didn’t feel jealous today. I could read them, even wanted to…but in respect, I didn’t touch them.
Even though dead, she was like a flower. There were still the bracelet on her wrist, the bracelet given by the person she loved the most, and who never gave value to it. Last time we met, she had told me that she has moved on from him and become free. I feel sad for you, my lady. Even at the last breath, you weren't set free. You left the earth with those heavy chains tied on your foot.

              I am writing this based on whatever I felt in my interaction with this lady, and her point-of-view and whatever gifts, writing, emails etc I found, talking to Wilson and my husband Drake’s word. Based on those evidences and mixed with my imagination, I am writing this.