What if your favourite character could walk into your life?

EDITED BY VANSHIKA PRUTHI 3RD YEAR ENGLISH HONS

What if your favourite character could walk into your life?

What if one morning, under an orange hue covering the naked sky,

with birds chirping their old melodies to calm chaotic minds,

a flower blooming afar,

some still becoming, others already bloomed,

I stood barefoot on the grass, morning dew clinging to my skin,

and he appeared?

I stood tall, waiting,

walking, chewing my nails, flexing my toes,

as if time itself was hiding in the dark bushes.

I roamed around, holding my breath to see him.

A soft breeze passed by, and I knew he was there

before I even saw him.

What if I could finally say the things I buried in my heart?

What if I could tell him,

He was once my calm in the chaos.

He felt me when I felt nothing.

He held my hand and walked me

towards a path I couldn’t see.

But now he feels so far,

a distant memory.

What if I could tell him,

“Willem, oh, Willem.”

You taught me life is hard,

but never the end.

You taught me hope

when it felt like dust.

You taught me to cherish friendships, even when broken,

to stand by them when it felt impossible.

You taught me it’s okay to rely on people,

even when every part of me screamed to be left alone.

And now he stands there, smiling softly,

his tender eyes locked with mine.

He doesn’t walk toward me this time.

He doesn’t hold out his hand.

He just stands still, smiling.

What if I called out his name, would he answer?

What if I asked him to stay, would he remain?

He didn’t come for me, and I didn’t go to him.

Yet somehow I felt him,

his soothing words, his aching sadness, his kind heart.

What if I was always meant to find him?

To seek him in bound pages?

In his little life, he held my hand,

grasped it tightly in his.

But what if he actually felt it?

I cried with him,

sobbed hard for him.

He was always Jude’s Willem,

but somewhere in between,

he became mine too.

Now his hand feels like a fading imprint, pale,

aching to be held again.

He is leaving, again.

Yet always here, in my heart.

He may have left my pale hand,

but I will always hold his,

knowingly, unknowingly.

And maybe this is what it means,

if a favourite character could walk into your life.

Not to stay forever,

but to teach you to value every tomorrow:

even when painful,

even when heavy with sadness or lit with laughter,

to live in it.

To dive in it.