She had always believed in the power of magic, of magical things, places and people. I could not blame her for that, for it was me and my magic that had first drawn her closer. I was her everything, her only hope and dream. Her only nightmare and fear. It was funny, this arrangement of seemingly simple and uncomplicated ties. Or so, I found her to believe. She refused to accept me as a proof of her power and her magic. As if in a trance, we grew together, learnt and saw the world together. Until that day, one fine day, when it was time to let go. Time that had been anticipated, time that could have been avoided, had she only asked. Refuse, was all she had to do, and our fate could have changed for the better. Or for the worse.
“Maybe this is my destiny and I can do nothing to escape it.”
“You remember all the times I’d call you magical?”
“I must remember all that you’ve said and done.”
“Want to know why that power can never be mine?”
“It is already yours.”
“And yet, I do not see it. Because, the magic that lives within me, gives me life. And the day I truly feel it within me, the day I acknowledge its presence….”
She knew, and there was no denying it.
“Will be the day there is no more left of me.”
It is never too early to know what fate holds in store for you, is it?