Hindi movies, and storytellers, and fairytales often tells people how undying love is portrayed to be. They often give the message to its audiences to never give up on love, although love may seemed to have given up on humans. And more than often, you find yourself tearing at the sweetest parts of the story, at the climax of the story, or at the endings of the storys being told. Either way, the storys touch a part of you, and it stays as a part of you. It teaches you that love isn't really lost, even though absent physically. Love stays and endures till forever. It's hard to envisage a love, even after death, in heaven, but it does happen. Love lasts even till then. It's contradicting; if I were to say I'm a believer of love, but am not of God, only because God is love, and he created and made love.

I've just read finish reading a story, a true story of Mitch Albom's uncle, Edward Beitchman, titled "The Five People You Meet In Heaven".

The story taught me much, and I want to change my life and perspectives of life and love, and forgiveness, after reading it. While being sunken into the story while reading it, I imagined him* in the story, being with me. It seems that I've been searching for forever just to find myself being in love with him. Countless times I've reminded and warned myself not to be addicted to this cycle of love, but more than often, I find myself dissolving away from the staunchness I had. I don't want to give up on him, although many a times human nature and instincts tell me I should have a long time ago. I'm not going to give him up, although this whole situation might not be mutually reciprocated. I love him, and I know it well. I don't want to fake it and mask up a facade I'm not even comfortable being in. We may be two totally different people, but it's the magic of it all that draws two souls, though totally different, together, forever.

"Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.

Life has to end. Love doesn't."