One summer evening.

She sits on the grass of the lawn with a cup of cold coffee in her hand on a cloudy evening of summer. She's thinking of something, not sure what it is. Because she's continuously gazing at the wide sky above, lost in fathoming the height of the passing clouds, noticing how the moon is bleak that will just be brighter in no time. And she feels a tear rolling down her face that reminiscences those beautiful memories she collected in that jar, which is enclosed in a cage, her heart.

Just one month back, how things were different, how there were tears of joy in her eyes. The beautiful evening when they were together for that little span of time which seemed eternity to her, because all the dimensions had vanished and all there was left was his eyes she could drown into.

When he held her hand for the first time that evening, it wasn't just a mere portrayal of his affection towards her, or some cheesy romance, but it was a promise that they made, without uttering a word. They made that promise of not letting go of each other within those exchange of glances. How he left her eyes shining like a pearl just out of the sea or a full day's moon. She would've never let go of that hand, never, if it wasn't for the society. "Let go of it, let go of the hand, you're not going to let him go, it's just his hand" the mind commanded, but her heart, it was melting in there, it wanted to glue those hands with the wax coming out of the heart in the form of tears, but she didn't let the tears roll down, had she done so, it would've made him upset. She could hear her heart playing notes like an acoustic guitar, and it stopped right there when the grip of those entwined hands loosened and he let go of her hand. But the intimacy had already increased, the love was now stronger than any bond.

Now, right after a month, she's craving for that hand to wipe those tears off, she's broken, the barbaric society, the cruel world is killing her dreams and he doesn't even know, he has no clue, not a hunch of what she's going through, of the hell she's residing in, and his absence makes the things even worse for her. She looks up at the moon and thinks of the nights when she was with him, how the moon looked brighter than it is now, and how the sky cried when they were going to part their ways.

Oh, love is such a torture at times.
One moment, it takes you high above, the other moment, throws you back into this filthy world. She takes the very last sip of her coffee and tries to pen down her love for him in the diary he gave her.