The Schemer Who Only Wanted Light

2020

Some say ice. Some say fire. For no one knew what she truly was or what she would ever be! She. The one who carried the burden of heart. Teary eyed, all choked, she runs to solitude for she knew the world could not perceive what her soul could hear. She. The recluse who emphathised with strangers’ scars. She. The one who sailed with her broken pieces, walked over and over by one or the other. She. The one who feared to be found for what she was.

He. The one who had to cross path with her. He stopped by and liked her for the light hid in her. He could see all in her, she thought no one would. He wanted nothing from her but her light to be shared. He embraced her shattered pieces and calmed her storming soul. Warmed by his words, she rested her head on the shoulder she knew would carry her flame. Knowing “it’s time for her to light up the world”, she closed her eyelids that finally slept!

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Some say soulless. Some say the schemer. For no one knew what he truly was, or what he had tried to be!

He. The one who crossed her path and stayed. He never wanted her crown, her silence or her pieces. He wanted nothing but her light to be shared, and that never changed, even after it was over.

He. The one who stood in her storm. He held out his hands to calm her restless sea, but the harder he held on, the more the waves pulled away. He learned too late that you cannot calm a storm by standing in the middle of it. He lost her in the very act of trying to be her shelter.

He. The one who went back again and again. He knocked on doors she had already closed. He held on to the thread she had already let go of. Every time he reached for her, he found only the space where she used to be. He failed, and failed again, and still he reached, because letting go felt like putting out the light he had promised to protect.

He. The one they call soulless, when his soul was the only thing he ever gave. The one they call the schemer, when his only plan was to see her shine. He let them name him. He never argued, for the only one who knew the truth had already walked away.

He. The one who carries her flame now, though she is gone. The shoulder she once rested on stays empty, but it is still warm. He still wants the same thing he always wanted: for her to light up the world, even if it is a world he can no longer stand in.

So he whispers to the dark, “Shine, even if it’s not for me.” And for the first time in a long while, he closes his eyes, not to sleep, but to finally let her go.

2026