The Letters We Keep

by Nisha Sharma

A block back, she made out a figure standing under one of the few working streetlights. Smoke

You’ll stop wasting your time with those parties and reading those books that rot your brain—”

In the bright light of day, he could identify her between one heartbeat and the next.

She looked up from her tablet, and her gaze met his.

Ravi Kumar booked the hour before and after her study session for every day that week. Which meant that she couldn’t stay longer or come earlier even if she wanted to.

“No, you don’t get to judge me, or talk down to me, or make assumptions about who I am because of my last name. If you don’t want to talk to me when we walk, that’s fine, but I don’t want to be the last person who saw you before you got hurt or something.”

Hopefully, the story for that night would include his study-room rival.

“Get the fuck out,” he said to them all.

Secrets were more romantic in the shadows than in the light.

She bit into another fry, and they slipped into silence as they ate and sipped their drinks in that bustling late-night diner filled with upper-class students who looked like they were desperately trying to sober up.

“I understand sacrifices,” he started, “but what if you don’t have to make them? What if you’re just telling yourself you have to make them because it’s easier that way instead of opening yourself up?”

He was close, too close to the truth.

the dates where you just can’t tell time and you’re just gabbing away are the good ones. Hold on to each other.”

“Because we’re living in a pressure chamber. One that has kaleidoscope colors and makes us believe that anything is possible. College is not the real world. It’s a fantasy.”

While they watched, Ravi remembered the cult classic movie Twilight. Edward and Bella in the chemistry lab.

Was this what it was like to be in love? Was this what people were so scared to find? No, she thought. This was what people were so scared to lose.

You can’t find meaning in someone else’s happiness. You have to find meaning in your own. I hope the sacrifices you’ll make are worth the fleeting joy you have now.”

But then I met you, and my time here began to mean so much more. The moment we ran into each other, I felt like everything changed.

“I love you, and no matter what else happens, that won’t change.”

“I love you, too.” Even if we break.

I don’t have a lot of people in my life, because I know I can be a little uh, focused on work, but that just means the friends I do have are so important to me. I’ll never forget this.”

“Thank you for finding me in that study room,” she whispered.

“Dada came to this country so that he could make a better life for our family. He did what he had to do so that we could all be successful. He would’ve wanted us to have a choice. Because that’s what he fought for.”

Reality was a cruel bitch sometimes, and people had tragic lives. But somewhere along the way, he’d started to hope for a different kind of ending.

Life is not all hearts and candy. It’s not about love notes in beautiful libraries.

I don’t accept your excuses, your fear, or your paltry reasons for making other people happy while sacrificing your own happiness.

They underestimate how strong we are together, how resilient we can be.

“Come on,” he said. “I’m going to buy you a latte, then take you to our study room. We have a paper to write.”

There is always a path to happily ever after. There is always the slow unpacking of intergenerational trauma, addressing privilege and class, and the importance of standing up against cultural expectations.