Perhaps a woman I met when I was in my twenties. I only realized what I felt from her when she was literally forcefully taken away from me, but due to my relation with her, romance was never an option from the start, but when the thing happens what happened to her you cannot get that off anymore.
This woman, by the name of Myra (I won't mention her surname for privacy reasons), was kindness in all ways. She was the light in anyone's life no matter how depressed you would be. Your bad mood was a challenge for her to get you in a better mood. And good looks were the additional bonus. Of course, the perfect woman doesn't exist, but it was hard to believe she had her bad sides.
And one or two days, after I saw her last in all the sunshine she brought to anybody he was fortunate enough to meet her, my boss came to me and asked "You do know Myra, don't you?". I was surprised by the question, but I just said "Uh, yes." My boss continued: "She passed away last evening.... traffic accident."
KABOOM! That one really hit home. I was supposed to work, but all I could do was standing still, looking straight forward without noticing anything that happened before my eyes. Later I was informed what exactly happened. On her way home (by bicycle, which is a very common way of transportation in the Netherlands) she had to past one of the most dangerous traffic spots in the city of Breda, and she couldn't see a truck coming from a factory's exit, and she rammed it and instantly died on the spot. I attended her funeral, and really, I saw she was loved by many. Never before did I attend a funeral so crowded. It was like a world famous movie star was being buried, so many people came, showing how loved she was.
In my work as a novelist, I gave my first serious protagists I ever wrote about, Jake and Marrilona, a daughter named 'Myrah', which was a bit of my way to pay my final respects to a woman whose looks and personality were too good to be true (I added the "h" is a reminder that this fictional girl is not the same girl as the woman she was named after). It also reminds me of a song by the Dutch commedian Youp van 't Hek in which he wonders why the wrong people die. Those you love die young, and those you hate live long.
And what would I say to her when I went back in time? What do you say to somebody you know you won't see again alive because they are fated to die soon? Especially when they are in good health and all? Perhaps it's better that I cannot go back in time.
