Based on the poem 'Do not stand at my grave and weep' by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

My dearest,

If you are reading this letter now, then you must know.

Everything around him stood still.
The wind stopped blowing, as if paying tribute to the sadness in his heart. The birds did not chirp. Instead, they sat on the highest branch of the tallest tree as if understanding the ache in his soul. The trees did not sway, for they wanted him to say that he was okay.
 

But he did not, could not, for every bone in his body was weeping.
The piece of paper lay in his hands, between his thumb and his index finger, waiting to be read. But he couldn’t go further, not when he knew what was lying ahead of him in her letter. Behind him, he heard the soft rustle of dried up leaves and knew that someone had arrived, possibly to meet the ones they loved and lost.

You know by now that I am under the soil where you stand, away from your loving gaze and your tender embrace. You know now that this is how it will always be.
You know now, that I am dead.

A single tear escaped his eyes. He shook his head, trying not to let the emotions overwhelm him. Life did not make sense as he knelt on the soft grass, looking down at the stone slab that represented his love. She was gone for real, would never come back, no matter how long he begged and cried, because, he would, for her. He would give up everything if that meant she would be next to him again, her warm breath on his face. But that was not how life worked. People who passed away remained dead, leaving the rest to drag on with the remnants of sweet moments that suddenly, harshly, turned into bitter memories.
If only he could have been the one to go. If only she was the one to stay.

Don’t stand here, at my grave, and cry, my love. That won’t make me come back. Don’t shed tears under the stone where you think I am sleeping, because I am not. I cannot sleep and I never will. I am not where you think I am. I am not there.

He remembered the first day they met, over fifteen years ago, when they had been children. They played in the sandpit after school hours till their parents came to pick them up. He always let her take the beautiful, plastic shovel because then he could see how her face lit up in joy as she dug into the sand. He wanted that smile on her face, always wanted to be the reason behind it.
Yet, now, it all seemed like a lost purpose.
Like his entire life was a lie, her existence a mere dream of his own faulty perceptions. Then how come the holes in his heart felt more real than anything else?
Lifting a trembling hand, he placed a single tulip on her gravestone and then ran his fingers across her name.
“I am sorry,” he whispered, his eyes filling up yet again. “I am so sorry.”

I know it seems like everything has gone still. I know because that is how I imagine I would be without you. As if life all around me stopped, paying respects to the death of a loved one. Only, I am that loved one in this case, not you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Close your eyes, darling and feel the soft breeze caressing your cheek. That is me. Every single magical wind of the thousand you will encounter in your life will be me. When it is really cold, so cold that the gentle breeze turns to icy snow, the tiny shimmers on its smooth white exterior will be me too, looking up at you with a glint like the one in my eyes when I see your face. Always.
But know that I am not coming back.

The letter shook in his hands and he wrapped the coat around himself tightly, trying to escape the cold, not understanding that it was coming from within. It was the unending shiver that was consuming his heart, filling it with a fatal chill that she would no longer be able to warm up like she always did with her beautiful skin against his own. The very thought tormented him, and he pictured their lives together, their hand-in-hand, looking-into-each-other’s-eyes kind of whirlwind romance that consumed them both to an extent where no one else existed. Even if they did, they did not matter, not when he was there for her and she was there for him. The surprising thing about their relationship was that they hardly said the three sacred words. They never needed to, not when their every action spoke louder than their voices ever could. He knew she loved in him the way she looked at him when they woke up together every morning, the way she smiled at his anger and kissed away his worries with a single peck on his cheek. She knew he loved her the way he left little surprises for her every day, the way he never let anything hurt her feelings and the way he embraced her, letting her tears soak the tears in his shirts and locking them within.
It was pure love.

When you look out the window and you see the way the sun’s rays shine brightly on every single blossoming tulip in our garden, know that it is my presence, watching over the flowers of our love, making sure they never die. So smile, for that is how much I love you, will always love you, unendingly and unconditionally. Throughout the mystery of the changing seasons, I will be there, as much as the sweet fragrance of the rain kissing the mud and as much as nature blooming around you every day of every week of every year. But that doesn’t mean I will be coming back.

They didn’t have a lot of common friends, did not know a lot of people. They mostly kept to themselves, mainly because they didn’t think they needed anyone else. They were, after all, best friends who were not only very much in love but were sure to spend the rest of their lives together. They were all in one. She always joked that she would be hovering over him, keeping an eye on his mischief. Promise me, he had said, worried tremendously that a woman as perfect as she was would soon get tired of him. I will be everywhere, in everything you see, she grinned in response. We are stuck with each other, my dear boy.
Oh, how he wished that was true.
Their whole lives, they heard people telling them that their love wasn’t real, that like everything else, love would fade away because they were not that perfect one in a million who would last together forever. To him, it seemed like they were right, at least partially, for even though they were madly, deeply, insanely in love, they couldn’t be together.

You know how every morning when you wake up, you see my face? That isn’t going to happen anymore. I won’t be there next to you the way you expect me to be. But that doesn’t mean I will never be with you. I promised, remember? And so, though you will not see me, you will feel me and my love in the way the morning gives you a refreshing burst of energy. I will be the rush that flows through you after a good night’s sleep even as the rest of the world is still quiet in all its drowsiness. Remember that it is our love that will wake you up every morning. So, for me, you must smile, letting me know that you feel me. Promise me that.

When he asked her to marry him, she had screamed yes even before he could properly get down on one knee. She wept endlessly that day, refusing to wait till he pulled the ring out of his pocket. She said she didn’t care, that love doesn’t depend on diamonds. She jumped into his arms, making them both fall backwards as she showered him with kisses. He tried reminding her, amidst laughter, that people were watching but she did not care. She just asked him to shut up and get used to it because she would be a very bossy wife. He told her that was exactly why he was marrying her, because he needed someone to set him right when he was being silly. Forever is my gift to you, he whispered.  
But she was gone, leaving him with no one to listen to when he was wrong, laugh with him when he was happy or keep him calm when he was down.
“Is this it?” he asked, looking skywards as the tears clogged his throat. “Is this really the end?”

When you look out the window, pondering over the day, I will be there listening to the secrecy of the birds running circles in the bright blue sky. You will see me, if you try really hard, and I will be smiling down at you. You will smile back, won’t you? Because I still will be there, waiting for you among the stars that shine at night with a glisten that will steal your heart, just the way I stole yours all those years ago. But this is how we shall survive, apart but together, because I will not be coming back. 
 

All their years of marriage flashed across his mind. Holding a hand up to his heart, he took a deep breath, trying hard to focus on the last part of the letter. He owed her that much. A year ago, when they were sitting on the couch, just being together, she had told him that she sensed something was just not right. But he didn’t take her seriously, just joked that since he was right there, nothing could possibly be wrong. Only a few weeks ago, she was sure. Just in case, she had said, hugging him. Go to the place we first met. He had hugged her back, telling her that everything would be fine. They loved each other, didn’t they? That would be enough. 
But it obviously wasn’t, because he was reading the letter that he found at their secret spot in the school where they first met. She had taped it to a rock, knowing all along that she was going to die. But she never said those words, hadn’t wanted to worry him.

Don’t just stand here at my grave. I am not there. I am all around you, in every step of your life, in every breath you take and every beat of your heart. I know how it feels and I feel it too. But that doesn’t mean life has to stop, does it?
Do you know why I am never coming back?
Because I never left.
Because I will always be with you.
Even when you move on, even when you make place in your heart to be with someone who loves you the way I do, I will still be there. It won’t mean I am less important, it just means your heart has grown bigger.
Our love shall remain forever.
But please do not just stand here expecting me to lie still. I did not die.
I am with you, around you and in you.

I love you.

He brought the paper up to his lips and kissed it before putting it into his pocket. As he stood, closing his eyes, he felt the gush of wind on his face.
“Don’t tell me you love me,” he said, as the single star in the sky shone brightly. “Just show me.”
He stood looking at the gravest one last time.
Then he walked away.