It was a long night, and we didn't speak a word as we headed to the parking lot. Like a storm's aftermath, calmness gradually swept through the area.

The view of the golden gate bridge sparkling in lights at this hour was eye candy. Those lights reflected on the water, making the entire place magical. It somehow lightened up my desolated spirit.

It suddenly occurred to me that, if not for the darkness, this spectacular show of light might have gone unseen.

"You're headed home, right?" Henry asked me as I walked towards my car.

"No, um, actually, I thought of going for a drive," I said, as I didn't feel like going home. I felt suffocated and thought a night drive would help me get things off my chest.

"At this hour?" he asked.

"Yeah, I need to get some air."

"I'll come with you." He said as he stood beside me.

"You don't have to do this, Henry. You don't have to worry about me. You have already got enough things on your plate." I said in a feeble voice. I didn't want him to feel guilty. I didn't want him to look after me out of his guilt.

"I insist."

I was unable to refute it. I got inside my car after giving a head nod. He took the front seat next to me.

We drove along all night. Initially, it was awkward, as silence prevailed for a long time. None of us knew how to break it, or should we even break it at all. We let it be the way it was happening, as we both needed time to catch our breath. And it was a long night indeed.

After driving for hours, we returned to the beach early in the morning for the sunrise. Henry suggested that the staggering beauty of this beach during sunrise was something one should not miss. And I was left with no reason to deny it.

The intensity of the darkness dwindled as it was nearing dawn. The beach was quiet, and I could not see anyone within my field of vision.

The spread of various hues across the sky resembled the messy paint palette of an artist working on a painting.

The radiant golden clouds glared in my eyes. They remained put in the sky, scattering the rays of sunlight as the sun headed up. Witnessing the beginning of a brand new day pumped blood faster into my heart, making me alive. The chillness around the waters and the cold sand beneath my feet kept me kindled even after a tiring, sleepless night.

The blue ocean preserved its calmness in spite of the chaotic world. And the gentle breeze gave a foretaste of the briny ocean water. I took a deep breath of that fresh, crisp air, which made me firmly believe that this was how I wanted to wake up every morning.

The waves crashing against the rocks sounded reassuring. It provided me with an immediate feeling of reassurance that I can't quite put into words. It convinced me that everything would be alright with the course of life.

There were times when Henry and I stood silently in solitude. There were times when we just walked along the shore, talking about everything and nothing. We actually got along well. I couldn't even say exactly when that awkwardness between us faded away. But it doesn't feel like that anymore. Maybe his constant attempts to make me feel better did that anyway.

He burst out laughing when I told him how I once thought him to be a serial killer. He never saw that one coming. He instantly broke out in fits of laughter that lasted several minutes. It was pleasing to see his genuine laughter as I never caught him smiling like that before.

He then unexpectedly mimicked the angry face I made at the library during our first meeting when I thought he was being rude to me. We laughed at it like there was nothing to worry about. It was so good to smile after hours of being glum. That reduced the excruciating pain in my chest. And everything felt complete at this point. That sense of wholeness I got around him was soothing. It made me believe that, at least for this moment, everything was just fine.

Maybe if things hadn't turned out this complicated, we would have become good friends. We would have laughed more about Jas's stupid theories, like this serial killer one, how Larry ended up upside down in a box on Hazel's birthday, and Joe's half-baked jokes. Maybe we could have visited the library one fine evening, reading and laughing over books. And, of course, life would have been simple then, unlike now.

This one night made me get to know him a lot better. He was not the cold-hearted person I saw at the library. He was not the cranky person who hit me in the hallway and hurried away, even without apologizing. He was never any of that.

Along the way, Henry has been the Enrytt I was looking for. He was just the same. They were never really two different people. It was only me who failed to see the Enrytt in Henry Scott throughout. And I decided that it would be good for both of us if I chose to see him as only Henry and not Enrytt anymore.

That was the hardest part. To deny ourselves something that we love and something that we deserve when there was nothing wrong with what we did was one of the most poignant decisions to take. But one can never escape making such decisions in life. Maybe this was mine.

A week later

The past week was not easy. To face Henry every day in college and trying to overcome everything never went hand in hand.

Every time I faced him, I couldn't control the sense of helplessness passing through my body. Those should-I-nod-my-head-or-not nods we exchange when we come across each other like nothing happened made things difficult.

I had this feeling that something was missing or that something was not right. But after a long time, only now have things fallen into the right places where they were supposed to be.

Even after all these days, I couldn't help feeling helpless. Maybe if things ended up right, or if I were Elisa, I wouldn't have felt like that. I knew I was being hard on myself. But I felt like a piece of a puzzle, being fixed in the wrong place. Maybe I had fitted in right there for some time, but in the end, it will be evident that I was nothing but a wrong piece at the right place the whole time, and I could never complete the picture.

I have heard about love for the right person but at the wrong time. Perhaps for us, it will be the right time but the wrong person.

There were so many things relatable between us. I always wondered how we had same interests in things. That made me strongly believe that we were meant to be together. But only now do I understand that not all people who meet are meant to stay together, whether they are alike or not. Maybe it will be for better, or it can get worse. No one knew that prior. And I was no exception. Maybe time could heal me, as they say.

I still remember the last thing he said: "Maybe if things were different, we wouldn't have ended up like this. Maybe we are just bumps on each other's road."

It was always the little things that changed the course of our lives. If I had replied to that one person in the inbox, we might have ended up together. If I had talked to that person in the coffee shop who was next to me, things would've turned different. I wondered how we are always a little gesture away from the person meant for us. But now I understand that we are also a little gesture away from the people who are not meant for us. If I hadn't found that first letter in the yard, I would not be here, or if Elisa had gotten that first letter or at least cared to look at the last page of the book she borrowed from the library, things would have been different.

Perhaps it was meant to happen this way. Perhaps we were only meant to cross each other's road for a short period. But the happiness I got through that short time was not any less.

I grabbed that letter I wrote for Henry, which I didn't hand him. I couldn't get the courage to re-read it. It was tougher. It was tougher to realize that reading a letter I had once written and read a hundred times now became a nightmare. It takes a lot of courage to go through the things that once meant everything to us. For that one fleeting moment, it brings back all the happy memories. It reminds us the taste of something that can never happen again.

I took a deep breath. I wanted to read it one last time. And this time, I really hoped that Henry got to hear it wherever he might be.

Hey Enrytt!

So I hope that by this moment I might have finally found you. This one is for you!

Pale and blunt was my life,
You came in like sunshine.
You made a way like a ray of light
Passing through the leaves bright.

Then began the game of letters,
From being someone not fond of suspense
To someone ardently waiting for one
I knew I was changing, but only for you.

Oh, that might be you,
Oh, this might be you.
Emerged a parade of questions
Leaving me with confusion.

With all those letters and
With all the love you tie up with it
I felt like Catherine to your Garratt
But only I'm alive, unlike her.

With each day passing,
You made it an ounce easier
For me to fall for you
Beyond my fear of heights.

I hugged your letters tight
Hoping it was you in disguise,
Whispering tales to them over wine
Hoping it reaches your ears just fine.

Soaked so much in love
That choked my throat
Every time I spoke about you
To the moon and everything above.

Oh, don't punish the poor moon
For always roaming over your head,
As I commanded it to look after you
Until I happen to be next to you.

And when the day comes,
Remember the ride you promised
Over the iceberg, roaming the waters
Where only you and I matter.

With love,
Elena.

I broke into tears as I read the last line. My heart felt heavy as I breathed. I wiped the tears off and turned the letter. I started writing on the back of that letter.

To Henry Scott,

Some happiness in life is short-lived. But the impact it has on our lives turns that into a scar on our hearts. Perhaps you in my life were one such brief moment of happiness that has been etched as a scar for a lifetime.

Maybe it would have been easier for me to move on if we had met like people usually do. Well, that wasn't our case, unfortunately. Piling up all the emotions throughout these months, stocking up everything I wanted to say to you, and falling in love with you, who is present only in my thoughts and letters, without even seeing you in person, has made my feelings profound.

Sometimes there comes a brief moment of silence after viewing a good movie or finishing a good book where we sit silently contemplating what we have just experienced. Our thoughts will be constantly racing, and soon we will become entirely engrossed in them. But at the same time, a sense of emptiness pervades the situation. We will be left feeling empty and unsure of what to do next. We will be left with a lot of thoughts, but also with an ominous void. That's how ironic I currently feel. I keep having thoughts of you but also feel empty and clueless about what to do with my life.

I thought things would get better as time went on. But it gets harder each day. I never thought that breathing could be so hard until last week. It seems like all the tears I hold onto find their way to my throat, causing a choke that I can hardly swallow.

I have so much to say, and yet I choose to say it in a language that's so hard for anyone to understand, and somehow I keep waiting for you to show up in White Knight and say that you heard me. I knew I should stop waiting for you, but I just can't.

I try to smile every day, but it has lost its purpose. It just gets so hard when I keep seeing you every day. A lot of questions keep popping into my head: Why was it supposed to be me? Why can't I take it easier? Are things complicated, or am I? Am I the only one? Is it going to be like this forever? I mean forever? I think no one can give me answers to those. Perhaps I should stop looking for answers. Perhaps there are no such answers.

I think it will take a lot of time for me to accept that it was all meant to happen this way. Maybe there comes a day when the pain starts fading away, my heart starts feeling a little less heavy, my smile starts retaining its purpose, and your name hurts me a little less. And until that day, every day seems the same, and everything keeps hurting. I can only wish there was one such day, and that day will come sooner.

And I hope you find Elisa soon. She missed one hell of an experience here. And I hope she gets to read all the poems you wrote for her. And believe me, as I say from my experience, she'll be impressed by those.

Maybe we were nothing but parallel lines. Maybe we were never meant to meet each other. Maybe we were only meant to travel parallel to infinity.

Perhaps I was merely a letter that never made it to you.

~ Elena Davis

I folded the letter and kept it safely in a book. It was a relief to get everything I felt off my chest by writing it down. It did make me feel better.

Like a dried flower buried deep inside the pages of a dusty, old book that we may never open again, this letter ended up.

My phone suddenly buzzed. It was a message from Jas.

What if I find Elisa and date her? Then Henry will be out of the league, right? You might have a shot, then.

I couldn't stop laughing, thinking how dumb Jas had become.

Stop being a jackass, for God's sake. I replied.

From loving to letting go, most of our lives are destined to happen in between. Though love from both ends is pure, not all stories end with flowers and smiles walking down the aisle. Some stories begin with us and end within us. The in-between delusional phase we make up in our heads is where we love to the fullest and live to the fullest. We are blessed to live with that fragment of love forever, buried somewhere safer in our hearts. No wind can blow it, and no fire can burn it down. It is held safer in our hearts for decades and decades to come. We just get used to living with it. And yeah, in that way, our love is untouched. Nothing can detach it from us. And that is the beauty of unrequited love. A part of it always stays with us, even after we have moved on from it. It just stays there forever.

But life doesn't always end there.

For some, it is the beginning.

******

Hey, my dear readers!

Oh, god! Finally, I made it.

It was hard to write the last few chapters. Maybe I didn't want this to happen to Elena and Henry.

Maybe that's why it took me years to complete this story.

But, as Elena said, not all stories end with flowers and smiles walking down the aisle.

PS: Garrett and Catherine are character references from the book 'Message in a Bottle'.

******