Love of My Life

When I grow older,

I will be there at your side,

To remind you how I still love you

I still love you

One day in a small town in the South of Massachusetts, I met an old man at a bus stop near my house. He had this sad look in his eyes. He seemed so lonely. I kept going there to see if I would meet him again, and he came back every Friday afternoon. The man used to sit at the same spot, with his distant look. He had no belongings with himself, but from time to time he used to touch his left pocket. I didn’t know what that was about. On the third Friday we met, when I was observing the old man from the distance, he did that same gesture: he gently touched his left pocket, as he was making sure something was still there. I was able to see a piece of paper slipping from the inside. It got me very curious, so I had to go closer to give a better look. I sat next to the man, but he acted like no one was there. I tried to start a conversation. I said: "Hello, sir." He gave me no response. I tried again: “Excuse me, sir?" He still didn’t answer, but he looked down, his eyes full of tears. This time, he changed his ritual: instead of touching it, he removed something from his pocket. It was a black and white picture that revealed a young lady sitting on a chair. She seemed familiar somehow, a red-headed woman in a beautiful dress. The necklace she was wearing triggered my memory. At that moment, I figured out who he was and why he was there. 
Seven years ago, the city was devastated by a tragic incident: a woman at the bus stop was heading to her parents’ house, as she always did on Fridays, when two guys robbed her. They attempted to take her jewelry, but she struggled and refused to give it up, she begged not to take her necklace, it was too special. The men got furious and bludgeoned her until she lost consciousness. The woman was found with no ID, and she was so disfigured that no one from that small suburban city could identify her.
On their way to the hospital, the paramedics noticed something in her hand, a pendant in the shape of a lily. Unconscious, she was taken to the hospital but soon after she had a seizure and went to a coma. The case was on the news for two days straight until a guy named Harry Tranton appeared at the hospital clamming he was Jane Doe’s husband, that he had given her that pendant on their wedding day. She spent three years in a coma. Then, on their seventh wedding anniversary, the old man decided to withdraw care and let her go.
After my flashback finished, the old man was still looking at the picture. The woman had a unique beauty. She was wearing a long dress and had her hand on her knee. She was also wearing a ring, an engagement ring. For a moment, I thought I had already seen that ring before. Then I looked at my hand and noticed that mine was just like hers. I looked at the man and tears started to fall unwittingly from my eyes. At that point, I could see clearly. My Harry… I wasn’t strong enough for him, I let go too easily… I uttered his name: “Harry, it’s me, I’m here for you!”. I touched his hand, while he took a deep breath. I shouted: "I LOVE YOU, Harry! I am here, I still love you!". He whispered “I’m sorry I let you go, Lily…”, got up from the bench and went home, leaving the lily pendant behind. 
I stayed there, waiting at the bus stop, but he never came back. Hours passed and it soon got dark, but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed. Then, the sun started to rise and I felt a little bit of hope. For my surprise, a friendly woman passed by and told me she had been sent to meet me. She said she would guide me the way. I took the pendant and we headed home.

(First sketched in 2011, then edited throughout the years)