She is My Sunshine in a Life Full of Darkness by Alina

Gradually, her smile warms up the room.

We met so unexpectedly, as if fate drew us together. I wrapped her in my helpful hugs. We talked until the grim night when we finally blacked out. One of our first conversations was about how we would move in together. That's what you discuss when you definitely want to date and be a married couple for the rest of your life, until death parts you. There was the beauty of a little baby's breath on the window, and moments of tears and razor blades when she needed me the most. Her maturity seeped into every gesture, every word. I had never heard so much about inequality, wars, and the graves of our beloved before. She was never just a girl. I gave her my world and everything I had, even if she never asked for it.

First, I did everything for her comfort; I never said anything bad to her. Sometimes she cried and I didn’t know how to stop it, so I told her that everything would be fine and that it wasn’t the end, so she stayed by my side. Little by little, our relationship grew—'good morning, my love' and 'sleep tight' every single day. Time together was the precious gift she always wanted to give. There was no way I could hurt her; I asked only for things she was willing to do, unlike those bastards who are always demanding. Believe it or not, patience, love, and care can build a strong and long relationship. I should probably stop writing this, as I hope no one sees it, but maybe it is worth writing so someone can see I wasn’t even capable of hurting my girl.

Now, a woman is sitting here with the same eyes, only some livid lightning sprawls in the corners of them—with no hint of where it came from, because I am the most loving partner, and I know that for sure. I am always kind and never manipulative. When she talks, she chokes up, as if I am the one who split us apart, and her hidden surges of hatred are mixed with worry. Her facial features look just a little older; there is no roundness or bushy eyebrows anymore. I can’t wrap my head around this useless meeting. It's as if she is playing with my heart, my soul that I gave her fully. We could have decided everything months ago when I asked for forgiveness. Isn’t that enough? She was sitting there, glowing, knowing that I probably couldn’t stop her from going. The previous time we met was in a park where no one could stop me, but here…. Why does she seem to fear me when I haven't done anything wrong for two grown adults in a relationship? Everything has been so perfect, and now she is checking her phone in an attempt to flee from me. I worked so hard to get money for us—just numbers on a screen—but I hate them, as she always reminds me of the time when she was young. But numbers never speak to true wisdom.

Four years flew so fast.

She's now 17,

And I'm proudly 31.