To love
He watched her, from a hundred miles in an hour to asleep in a nanosecond. He wanted so badly
to lie down next to her on the bed, to wrap his arms around her and sleep. Not
fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Not even make love. Just sleep
together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But he lacked the courage,
and she had a boyfriend and he was gawky and she was gorgeous and he was
hopelessly boring, and she was endlessly fascinating. She scared the hell out
of him and calmed his soul at the same time. Maybe, that’s what love is, a
total contradiction that somehow balances out. So he walked back to his room
and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, he was
drizzle and she was a hurricane.And she
watched him perpetually fluttered in his hearts of hearts and minds of minds
between whether to do what seems right or to follow his heart and go for the
kill (read: confession of his love). Observing the surreal ordeals he was going
through, she laughed hastily, not because she wanted to seize his attention and
distress him by the loud noise but because she hoped that maybe, just maybe
he’ll fall for her laughter as hard as she did for his and hopefully, his
dilemma would be resolved. He would probably then inherently and successfully
argue it out to himself, so what if she had a boyfriend with whom she had made
out on several occasions. He assured himself to intensely believe that wherever
his thoughts led him to, be an evergreen path. But, it was the road not taken,
he reminded himself. It was the way of life that killed him yet made him feel
alive. And, alive is awesome. He recollected all the romantic movies’ cheesiest
dialogues he had heard ever, dashed towards the heap of books lying on the
floor jacketed with dust for some refuge. He muttered all those lines from the
love stories which he dismissed as trash someday earlier, thinking to himself about
his naivete in the yesteryear. Those lines were now whimsical.
And he
read it out loud: “We don’t have sex. We don’t fuck. We don’t even make love.
What we do is align planets. Create galaxies. Out shine stars. Give birth to
solar systems. Shift the universe. Have planets orbit around us. Cause shooting
stars to make wishes upon us. Discover new worlds. Make the time travel. Become
alpha and omega.”
“We
need to regularly have orgasms of insight, discovery, revelation and
understanding intended for the person we claim to love.”, chewed the other
book. He exclaimed in the affirmation with all the text he was reading for the
nth time but was absorbing for the very first.Those
words shined brighter in the periphery of his eyes. They emitted light this
time too. After all, he'd looked at her in a way all girls want to be looked at. He was bamboozled in the thick of things but he vociferated the unsaid like a knight would to
his warriors or a minister in a political rally or a cheerleader in a house
packed stadium or simply, just as he had panned out to do at the age of 8 if he’d
found true love.
Now, he
was afraid. Afraid like chimes in the wind when the winds lips are sealed. Afraid
like dreams when they realize they’re just dreams and reality is that one scar
that’ll never fade away. Afraid that she wasn't the one he had idealized to do
life with as a kid. She had flaws, but now that seemed okay. She was fierce,
she was strong. She wasn't the kind who would embrace him in emergent
situations and lay back on him. She would get right back up to the scenario and
take up the responsibility, and embrace him still. But with an I-can-do-things-on-my-own-and-i-love-you-still
attitude. He thought and thought, maybe it won’t work out but maybe seeing if
it does would be the best adventure ever. And, soon he survived the tornado of
his thoughts, and enlightened himself with a before and after she’d marked in his
life. She had made him question things that never appeared like one before.
This
was a modern fairy tale. No happy endings, no winning ourselves. But he couldn't imagine his life without, those breathless moments breaking him down, down,
down. The heart wants what it wants. So, finally he walked up to the cold bed
where she laid and slept warm and close. Yes, he slept. Just slept with her. He didn't fuck, like in those movies. Not even had sex.
With love.
No comments:
Post a Comment