“I believe there is no line between love and hate. Love can easily become hatred as simply as hatred becomes love. Hearts break, tears are shed...not every story ends in happiness.” I closed my notebook with a sigh, wondering how I arrived on this topic once again. I sat down onto a cold park bench, moss-covered and creaky with a memorial plaque at the back. I was awaiting someone.

I had been writing letters to this man since the war, now the war had ended and the allies had won. I felt it was only appropriate to meet with him. He was an incredibly well-written man, he spoke with meaning and passion. I felt like I was hanging onto every word he wrote. When in black and white, we appeared to be opposites. However, beneath the surface, our morals were the same. I spoke of heartbreak, yet he spoke of fondness. He offered the opinion of true love which I rapidly declined. “Romeo and Juliet may be known as ‘starcrossed lovers’ however their story ended in tragedy,” I replied.

The date was May 15th, a beautiful spring day was upon us. From my coat, I retrieved ‘Pride and prejudice’, a novel written by Jane Austen. Back then, I believed I somewhat resembled Elizabeth Bennet at the beginning of the story. 

As I began to engross myself into the novel, footsteps began on my right-hand side. From behind, the endless branches came a man. He was only young, as I was, however, his attitude appeared older. 

“William?” I whispered as the tall, toned man approached me. The sun lit up his face incredibly. He had a chiselled face, beautiful pale blue eyes and light brown wavy hair with drifted perfectly onto his face. “Greetings, my dear, Peggy.” He sat beside me and noticed the book in my palms. “Do you enjoy the work of Austen?” He looked at me curiously. 

“I do.” I hesitated. “There’s something about the beginning pages of the novel that make me think.” His eyes glanced at the beginning pages before turning back, “Chapter three…” He smiled. “I believe you’re referring to chapter three?” 

“Yes,” I gazed back at him. “Mr Darcy calls Elizabeth ‘tolerable.’ I wonder if other men see myself as only tolerable.” I starred down towards my hands, twitching anxiously. 

“Allow me to assure you, Miss Peggy. You are so much more than tolerable. From what I know, you can be stubborn in your beliefs however your pride, empathy and passion ensure you are much more than only tolerable.” I gazed at him in astonishment, for no one had ever said such things about myself. 

“I appreciate your words more than you could ever imagine, William.” I smiled as he put his hand in mine. 

“I brought you something.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a daisy along with a brown package. “You shouldn’t have…” I teased. Inside the parcel lied a beautiful edition of  ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ “I want you to understand the love these characters share, between the heartbreak and tragedy. There is much more to life than sorrow.” I smiled as he leaned in to kiss my lips, I remained speechless. He began to pull away, after whispering in my ear, “Sometimes love lasts forever.”