Always Around

I wish there is a shorter, less complex version of this story. One where the man and the woman knew they were meant to be together the very moment they first walked into the same room.  Then again, they were still in high school back then, barely a man, barely a woman. Clueless as to what kind of emotions they would experience together and apart.  Would they have stayed together, helped each other grow, through all the pain and suffering if they decided to commit to each other earlier? In all my years watching them, I very much think so. No matter when and where they chose to be in each other's lives, I do not see anything that would change the ending to this tale.  You see, it seems to me that the universe, with all its powers, wanted these two fine people to be with each other. Like their narratives would not be complete without the existence of the other. I, for one, wanted them to one day look into each other's eyes and realize they have influenced each other's lives unknowingly for the longest time. But funnily enough, the ways their stories intertwined all these years are known only to me, the lone observer from afar. Please do not think of me as a mad stalker who obsesses over these two persons. I obsess over them, yes, but that is because I treat them as my children. My only family, albeit both visiting me only one day each week now. I met Roxy, the sweetest girl, sixteen years ago when she was still a high school senior. Since then, we have eaten breakfast together every Saturday morning without fail. She would always bring a bag of sweets to share, and I would buy us meals. Always after a twenty-minute walk from home to a local cafe outside the school where I teach. Always pancakes and two cups of coffee.  Gladwell, on the other hand, visits me at home every Thursday night. I started coaching his writing when he was a senior. Sixteen years ago as well. We made a habit of bringing our favorite books or articles each time to exchange. He would write a short story for me to read, and I would give him my feedback. Eventually, he no longer needed my help. We started spending our Thursday nights eating dinner and catching up on life. If you have not caught on yet - yes, they were both dear students of mine. Life might have thrown at them the worst situations, but for some odd, inexplicable reason, it can't seem to keep them more than a mile apart. And I mean that quite literally. These accounts you are about to read are about how their lives tangled together beyond their knowledge, like a godsent love story that was in the making before they were aware of it. I find it remarkable, humbling that I get to witness their epic love build through the years. I'd like to think that I never meddled by any means that altered the way things could have been, but I guess that is for you to decide.