Miss you much.
Thinking about you.
Want to be yours now and forever.
Wish you were with me.
Dreaming about you.
That was it. It was beginning to suffocate him. Small notes in the lunch box, under the pillow, in his shirt or trouser pockets, daily dose of SMSs, missed calls, one-line emails. Does she have to say it so much,so many times?
His hands shivered as he lit her pyre. And then he missed how much she missed him. Then he knew.
She has known him now for 4 yrs . They met when they were in college. She was NOT a girl next door , and he wasn’t a flamboyant in character , but they were meant to be together.
She was a charmer and he was the less social, shy one in the corner. He was into books and she was in everything apart from it . Maybe as it is said , opposites attract. They happened to each other . She never believed in Love until she met him and THEN there was no looking back .
They made a pair to be envied by all those who knew they were a couple , to be blessed and loved by few .
When GOD wrote their Love Story he was perhaps in the most melodramatic mood. The budding lovers were least aware of the real world. They dreamt of everything except a broken relationship .
Some dreams are meant never to be fulfilled and few horrible horrible nightmares were destined to come true. Maybe they were fated to meet and depart .
Oh there she stands today amidst all applauses & eyes gazing at her. She is at her best spirit. This is where she always intended to be. To be acclaimed , to be unbeaten , to be praised. She moves in the crowd with smile on her lips and pride in her eyes but always looking for that familiar face with the deep grin. The disappointment in not finding that face was well hidden by practice.She moves back to her bay and look out of window to see the roads she has travelled once with him .
She is 28 now and climbing ladders to her success but nothing stops her from going back to the life when she was with him .There is part of her which wants to run back to the days when she was 21 , when she was content by just walking in the June- July rains of Cochin, by that 5 minute bike ride or that wait at the garden for 10 minutes just to see him after his football or cricket match . She cant stop thinking of those days even when her friends tell her to move on .
Moving on has been a strange journey for her where she got everything in this spree only disallowing herself from every relationship . She met many ppl only making them acquaintances. Today she is in dilemma if to allow herself another chance in new relation or not . As the pieces of that broken relation still nip her , she refuses to discard them .
Every marriage she attends, every status update she receives, every couple on the road n she thinks to herself, why couldn’t it be them walking hand in hand, y couldn’t it be their marriage, and why did it have to be them to fall apart? Why??
No matter how high she climbs up and how much success she finds, the love that she felt when she was 21 will still thriving inside her . A relationship which is dead for the world will still be nurtured and kept alive by her. She is not waiting for him but the love still binds her to tat man .She will forever be 21.
She can’t sleep though she never had a difficulty in going to sleep. That was once upon a time though. Every time she shut her eyes, images flit across, like a movie. The temper in his voice, the raised tone filled with anger, frustration. And then the audio track runs. ‘You cant understand me.’ ‘No respect for my time or space.’ ‘ What do I not do to make you happy?’ ‘Pushing my limits.’ Everything
She turns over, all restless. And then the past. A recent, not so old past. ‘Leave me alone.’ ‘I regret you.’ ‘I am not the one you’re looking for.’ ‘There’s always more than one.’ ‘Life has to move on you know.’
She waits, lying on her side, waiting for the pain to ebb into something dull. She has no more tears left. She glances at the clock above her bed. It shows 2:15 am. She remembers telling him, ‘At midnight, magical things happen.’ And then he called that night and said “I Love you.” She sighed, that was again a thing of the past.
For a moment, she thinks of missing work the next day. The thought of curling up into a ball and just lying there is very appealing. But her chin moves automatically upwards. She has had enough of the people she loves. They will not love her back the way she wants them to. Ever.
She rubs her tired eyes. They seem to be murky most of the time now. The red t-shirt she wore seems to dissolve into a pool of blood by the side of her bed. Tears? Drool? Or just blood?She experimentally reaches a hand out, as if he would be there like he always said.’ Your head on my chest and me holding you tight.’Nothing at first. And then, she feels a warm something feel her hand. For a moment, she imagines his lips over hers. And his face blurs into that which can never be. The something would as usual be the teddy he gave her as a valentine day gift, once upon a time.
Far far away, in a not so small, white house, in the rainy July’s of Kerala, a man throws off his blankets and mutters ‘ Screw this. I couldn’t even sleep last night’ . He isn’t sure why he is so restless.
Maybe he was awake in someone’s thoughts…
He: Talk for a little while
She basks, this is love
She: Talk for a while more
He cringes, Women and clinginess ugh!
He: Someone is busy today
I feel terrible that we could not speak yesterday love
She: I missed you yesterday
When will you understand space?
He: I love you
I love you to the end of earth and back
At another time
She: Do you love me?
Why is she always so insecure!
He: I can’t stop thinking about you
Intensity, I love it most in him
She: I will die if I lose you
Intensity is not hysteria, can’t mix them
The ‘she’ can be ‘he’
Depending on who loves less