He knew it even when he wrote his first poem for her. He knew he won't get anything out of this.

His college friends helped him to overcome her.

He deleted her Facebook messages. He deleted back up of WhatsApp chat with her from email. He deleted all her pics from cloud on OneDrive. All of them. He changed his passwords from her name to characters of The Godfather and his Pins from her birthday to something random. He deleted her poems for him from his OneNote notebook. Changed names of his stylesheet and js files to defaults. He altered 311 class and function names, from her name and surname and nicknames.

He was an intelligent student, with good scholarship and an internship. His aim was clear and career path set. But his life was a misery. He was suffering because he was in love with her. His best friend, his most intelligent friend, his poetry, his Drop of Pearl. He wanted to forget her.

He deleted her contact number, unsubscribed from her updates on Facebook. He changed his cover from a collage of his friends (where he could spot her) to his own photo. Switched his Lumia lock screen background to Bing images. Deleted all Creative Studio edits of her. Deleted all romantic love songs from his laptop and phone. Deleted song she sung for him, last trace of her voice. Switched to classical and ghazals. He was back to addicting games.

He wanted to abandon all attachments with her. In fact, with everyone now.  Having a heart of stone worked. His relation with her was solely based on long nights of chatting, when she was in hostel. He toggled flight mode. It was over now. He slept with peace after 3 years.

Morning was new. He was afresh after a deep sleep after months. After having a Skype video call with his dean, he was coding again. Programming life and listening his YouTube playlist.

Phone chimed.

“Heyy Deepakk.”

It was from her.

From his unmet love. An eternal yearn. From unachievable ideals. His only defeat. Loss that he won't be able to overcome. Never.