I’ve waited eight months for her. Autumn followed spring, spring followed summer the seasons came and went. Still I wait to see her, sitting by this very bench built on a bridge that was the first place we met. Her name I say in the winds hoping my message will reach her. The day I remember all so clearly.

On a cold winter’s day, depressed and deep in thought was I as I had both my hands on my head. Life was hard for me at that moment; failing to find a good job I quit both university and my dream of writing novels. I felt lost and hopeless; I yearned for death or divine intervention. Neither came except the gentle voice of a girl behind me.

“Hello, would you like some coffee?” she asked me with such a smile upon her face that all my worries and thoughts vanished in thin air.

I stared at her, speechless I remained. Her beauty was mesmerising. Looking into her eyes, a feeling of unease soon made me realize how awkward I had made the whole situation.

“Sorry, of course I would love coffee thanks,” I responded as we made our way to the coffee stand.

“My name is Anne, and you are?”

“Oh I’m… I’m hmm Darion!” I said as I continued making our acquaintances all the more weirder.

She looked at me not in a mocking way but in the type of way that seems accepting to one who’s weird in their own unique way. I had never come across a girl who seemed to be non-judgemental. My hopes of love, long extinguished, gradually began to be rekindled the more time I spent with Anne.

“So Darion’s your name, any meaning behind it?” enquired Anne to me as she gave me a cup of coffee.

“Well it means gift, the origin of it is Greek I think,” was all I could remember regarding the knowledge of my name.

The snow blanketed everything that I could see, a white snow landscape carved the perfect opportunity in setting a romantic scene. Anne and I walked about as we saw children engage in snow fights, ice-skating amateurs falling and struggling on the icy lake. Laughter filled the air as a winter’s day seemed like a summer’s day cloaked in ice.

“So Darion why did you look so sorrowful a figure when I approached you?” asked Anne as she and I now sat on a bench which had been built on a pathway bridge.

“I quit my job, university, gave up on my dream as an author. I feel so hopeless Anne. I stare at people around me as they progress in life while I stay stagnant. Honestly if you didn’t intervene in my sorrow who knows what I would have done,” I said when all of a sudden I realised that Anne and I have only been acquainted for one hour. Yet it seemed so natural that she really did care for my life. The whole situation seemed too perfect to be true, as I trusted her with no hesitation.

“Darion, I can’t say anything about your life but believe it or not I too am in a low point in life. My boy-friend called off our relationship because he considered me too ‘boring.’ My father refuses to acknowledge that I want to be a teacher. Worst of all I have not a single friend because most of my time is spent on studying and reading.”

“What! Impossible, you love reading? Believe it when I say you’re the first girl I’ve ever met who loves reading. You’ve got to tell me who is your favourite author, book and preferred genres?” I demanded of her to quickly reply, as the excitement and my love of books made me display both erratic and restless behaviour.

“Well my favourite author would be George Orwell, book I love mmm… In search of lost time and the genres I prefer, well, I pretty much read everything,” Anne said to me.

I could hardly fend off the tears in my eyes as I finally met someone who shared my love for books.

“Anne, don’t take this the wrong way but I never once imagined I’ll meet a girl who loved 1984. I own like 4000 books though people call me crazy I never let it bother me.” I said to her while not even pausing to consider that maybe I might seem a bit crazy.

“It’s society, Darion, that’s weird. I mean books give you knowledge, the ability to think and have meaningful conversations. Rest assured it is society which is crazy, you and I are just different from the rest,” Anne said to me.

I was filled with joy beyond words. Finally, a woman who shared my love for studying and reading was before my eyes. Though I never approved of relationships nor wished to get married, I now found myself contradicting myself as here I was falling in love and wishing I could spend my entire life with Anne. We spoke the day away as time seemed to elapse in an accelerating speed. Before long she needed to go home and I was just so happy that I had met a woman I’d waited for my whole life that I forgot to ask her for even her phone number or even home address.

It’s been eight months and every day I sit on this very bench that she and I sat on. I read a book hoping that she will spot me. Life is devoid of any meaning and purpose. Every other girl I see is dull and insipid for all are just the same. I’ll continue to sit here for decades if need be for Anne alone can make me a happy man.


Tell us what you think: Do you believe that a person can love one person for the rest of their lives?