He waited for her. But she never came.

She was supposed to arrive on the 6:03am train that would arrive at the San Francisco station, from the San Jose airport she had arrived at from San Diego.

But when the 8:50am train whizzed by, he realized she was not coming.

He had waited hours for her. He had woken up at 4am because he could not sleep. He was thinking about her. He always was.

Her name was Lilly. His name was Matthew. They had met in law school at University of San Diego. She was pretty. He was handsome. They were perfect. They kissed in the spring but she left in the summer.

Lilly had wanted to be a lawyer since her grandpa had looked at her, from his death bed, and said, "Lilly, make me proud. Be a lawyer, honey. Live a life of justice."

But then she decided she did not want to live a life working in an office, shut out from the outside world. No, she wanted to paint.

She had been good at painting since she was twelve. She had taken an art class and fallen in love with the comfort of acrylics on canvas.

But her grandpa had told her a painter was not a noble enough job for his princess. So she had put away her paint set and started studying.

She would lock herself up in her room, and soon she forgot about outside. She went to college at UCLA, and law school at USD in San Diego.

When she met Matt, she fell in love. Slowly, then all at once. He looked at her like she was the last girl he would ever love. And she was. She loved the way he laughed, and he loved the way she smiled. They were perfect.

But after their first year at USD, Lilly dropped out of law school to pursue a career in art. She applied to San Francisco Art Institute and got in.

She moved north and left Matt. And she graduated with a degree in fine art 3 years later. Then she moved down south as Matt moved up north to find a career as a lawyer.

Five years after her graduation, Lilly said she was moving back up north. So Matt waited for her. But she never came.

No one really knows what happened to Lilly that day. She was a suffering artist perhaps. She was misunderstood and did not want Matt to see her that way.

But Matt did not care. He wanted to see her. He had waited for her. But she never came.

She died six weeks later. She was incredibly thin and had not eaten enough. Matt went down to San Diego to see her body.

She was still too beautiful to be fair, and she reminded him of that poem about living forever, about how beauty could be immortalized. But he did not want her to be immortal, he just wanted her to be his for the rest of their lives.

When Matt picked Lilly up, he could see her bones through her skin. Her skin had become transparent, and had faded to white.

He kissed her goodbye, but her lips were like death upon his. He couldn't bear to see her so helpless, so he went down to the beach to drown his sorrows.

He swam out, far into the distance. He carried her on his strong shoulders. The lifeguards came out at a certain point, but he had already drowned. They could not save him. Lilly lay dead on top of his now dead body, and they were like Romeo and Juliet, except at sea.

So he waited but she never came. And this killed him. Waiting ended in death. And that was the end of it.

This was not meant to be a sad story, but it ended up being one. Just as no one intends to hurt others, they do. Just as many do not intend to die, they do.

So this is the end. But also the beginning. This was a love story. And now we have reached the finale. That is all. Yet this should not be remembered as a story of death, but the story of law, art, love, and Lilly and Matthew.