Did You Ever Love Me? by Rithvik Singh is a tender contemporary poetry collection about love, heartbreak, longing, self worth and learning to let go. Its greatest strength is emotional accessibility: Singh writes directly to readers who feel intensely and care deeply. The collection offers comfort without pretending heartbreak is simple, though its simplicity may occasionally feel familiar to seasoned poetry readers. Did you Ever Love Me? Have you ever loved someone so completely that, after they left, you were left wondering whether they had ever understood what they had been given? Not merely whether they loved you, but whether they ever noticed how much you loved them, how much patience you offered, how many small things you remembered, or how often you chose to stay when leaving might have been easier. There is a particular loneliness in that question because it rarely arrives at a dramatic moment. More often, it finds you while you are doing something completely ordinary. Yo...
In the moody town of Hollow Pines, a teenage poet navigates the void left by her emotionally absent father, a successful but distant whiskey tycoon. A romance with a mysterious librarian adds passion and complexity to her life. Through heartbreak, confrontation, and tragic loss, she discovers the fragile yet enduring ties of love, family, and self-worth.
Aarya’s story of a father’s silence, a lover’s passion, and a town full of ghosts.
Introduction
Let us be honest—nobody likes a cliché, but here I am living one. My name is Aarya Darrow, and my life feels like a rainy indie film where the protagonist spends too much time staring wistfully out of windows. Except I don’t get the perfect resolution or artsy soundtrack.
I live in Hollow Pines, a town so permanently overcast even the weather seems emotionally unavailable. Much like my father, Neil Darrow. He is the proud owner of Ghostwood Reserve, the kind of whiskey people write love letters to. And me? I am the daughter he forgot while chasing after golden bottles and corporate accolades. I am just a girl with notebooks full of angsty poetry and a heart hungry for something I can’t name.
Why do fathers fail and still think they are winning?
My earliest memory of Dad is more smell than sight: oak-aged whiskey, faint cigar smoke, and his aftershave—a combination that screamed “important man.” He wasn’t cruel or abusive, just…absent.
“Providing is what matters, Aarya,” he’d say every time I asked why he never came to school plays or remembered my birthday. It felt like Dad thought love came prepackaged with bank transfers.
When Mum left (apparently, even her patience had limits), it was just us two. Him and me, under the same roof, barely exchanging words beyond logistics.
“Dinner is in the fridge.”
“Your school fees are paid.”
“Your poetry is cute, but maybe write something practical?”
You get the idea.
What happens when your world feels empty?
Hollow Pines didn’t help. The town was built around pine forests and grey skies, a place where happiness felt like a myth.
On weekends, I would walk the dirt trails behind our house, the pine needles crunching underfoot. There was a certain beauty in the desolation—misty valleys, gnarled branches, and streams that whispered secrets no one else seemed to hear.
The library-slash-café, Fogbound Reads, became my sanctuary. It was where I could escape into worlds that weren’t mine, clutching dog-eared copies of Plath and Rumi while sipping overpriced coffee.
It was there I met Nathan.
Who is Nathan, and why is he so annoyingly perfect?
Nathan—tall, brooding, and just the right amount of sarcastic—was the librarian-slash-barista who ran Fogbound Reads. He looked like he belonged in some old photograph: sharp jawline, stormy eyes, and hair perpetually messy in that I-don’t-care-but-I-really-do way.
“Looking for anything specific?” he asked the first time we met.
“Yeah, a reason to keep existing,” I replied, deadpan.
Without missing a beat, he handed me a tattered Sylvia Plath collection. “Here. Misery loves company.”
I liked him immediately.
How do two broken people find each other?
Over time, Nathan became more than just the guy who stamped my books. We’d trade notes in the margins of poetry, dissect plotlines over coffee, and challenge each other to find metaphors in the mundane.
One rainy afternoon, as I read aloud one of my own poems—about longing and loneliness—Nathan interrupted.
“You know, for someone so young, you write like someone carrying an ocean of grief.”
“Maybe I am,” I replied softly.
There was a moment then—his hand brushing mine as he passed a book, the weight of his gaze lingering a second too long.
What does love look like in the rain?
Nathan and I had our first kiss under the pines, during a thunderstorm. The air smelled of wet earth and electricity, and I swear I could feel the forest holding its breath.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured against my lips.
“Why not?” I asked, breathless.
“Because you are searching for something I might not be able to give.”
But in that moment, I didn’t care. His lips were warm against the rain, and for the first time in forever, I felt alive.
Do fathers and daughters always misunderstand each other?
The romance with Nathan didn’t fill the void my father left—it merely distracted me from it.
One night, as I sat in our dimly lit dining room, I decided to confront Dad. He was nursing a glass of his prized whiskey, his eyes distant.
“Do you even know who I am, Dad?” I blurted out.
“You are my daughter,” he said, as though reciting a fact.
“Do you know what I want to do with my life? What I dream about?”
“Aarya, I have given you everything you could need.”
Everything except him.
Can love survive when it is built on pain?
Nathan and I started unravelling around the same time. He had his own scars—a mother who had left when he was young, a father who never recovered.
“I feel like I am just an echo of your dad’s absence,” he said one night.
“That is not fair,” I protested.
“Maybe not, but it is true. You are looking for someone to fill the hole he left. And I can’t be that for you, Aarya.”
I didn’t cry when he walked away. I saved that for later, when the ache hit like a storm I couldn’t escape.
What happens when it is too late?
A week after Nathan left, I found Dad slumped over his desk, an empty bottle of Ghostwood Reserve beside him. At first, I thought he was asleep, but the unnatural stillness of his body told me otherwise.
I called the ambulance, though I already knew it wouldn’t matter.
Later, I found a letter tucked under his whiskey glass. In it, he admitted to everything: his fears, his failures, and his love—buried deep but always there.
“I wanted to give you the life I never had, Aarya. I just didn’t know how to be the father you needed.”
How do you forgive someone who's gone?
Standing under the pines, letter in hand, I whispered to the trees, “I forgive you, Dad. I just wish you’d said these things while you were still here.”
The rain fell harder, washing away my tears.
The End.
FAQs
What is an emotionally unavailable father?
An emotionally unavailable father may provide materially but fails to offer emotional support or presence, leaving lasting scars.
Can emotional neglect be healed?
Healing requires time, self-reflection, and sometimes professional therapy to rebuild self-worth and trust.
How does emotional neglect affect relationships?
It can lead to difficulties in forming secure relationships, fear of abandonment, and a need for external validation.
Why is forgiveness important?
Forgiveness helps release pain, enabling growth and peace—even if reconciliation isn’t possible.
Author Bio
Tushar Mangl – Healer and Author of Ardika and I Will Do It. Writes on personal finance, mental health, food, leisure, and building a greener society.
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