Here they are sitting, together in a taxi driving them to their respective homes. Him, a child who happens to be an introvert of a kind. A chaos of thoughts in his mind, but only silence on his lips and words claded with hesitation coming out of his mouth.
Her, not much to tell about.
Amongst the chaos of his mind, one thought is of her. A mild amusement for her, even though he hasn’t seen her face. He still does not recognise any face when he thinks of her. A soul that feeds upon his imaginations; and then of course, a soul who suffers in reality.
Of her, there is still not much to tell. It is yet a one sided story. Were there any emotions emitting out of her, nobody knows. Could it not be a one sided tale as is believed till date, nobody could answer.
They have the outside worlds to look upon through the windows they were sitting by. Distancing them were her sister, a mature lady living a life of her own and perhaps engaged in her own thoughts, far away from this sphere of her presence. A white little mouse curled up into her lap, finding comfort in the cozyness, away from the coldness of a winter night. A mouse that will become a very good friend of him. The mouse that will eventually die falling off a roof. A mouse that’d make one of his homecomings unpleasant with his absence.
The journey proceeds, and with that his thoughts wander to far away places, escaping from her for some moment. She does not make any movement or sound that’d make him look at her, and it is dark too so he cannot see her at all. He only feels her, mildly and far away from any possible reality.
He is mildly attracted of her. Does he desire her? Nobody knows, not even himself. Would he wish her to be his? He is, for that matter, too weak to handle another person as his own. An introvert fighting with himself is too delicate to be handed over with someone, or rather handed to someone. And he knows it, he knows it all and hence he distances himself.
He admires what amuses him like how a traveller would look upon the beauty he would come across his journey. Moving on, with his eyes and his conscience laden to rest for a while; as far as the horizon lives in his sight.
He steps down near to where he lives. They are driven away from him, and he walks away from them, from her. The dark alley to his place gives him the apt atmosphere for his thoughts to come out in freedom, and take him over.
In the distance, what was she thinking while they drove away, nobody knows.
And she certainly does not know, the same boy who had just departed would be someone with whom she’d fall in love with. Almost a decade later.
And him, today he gazes through the past and into that taxi, and he smiles at how the universe has conformed and conspired to bring her close to him, perhaps to make him realise his subtle desire.
While the universe is still being chiseled to cut the distance from closeness to togetherness, that weakness and the delicateness still hasn’t subsided much for me to possess her.
There are fears that sorround my heart like clouds that float in uncertain skies. Fears that hesitates my heart from pouring down, fears of uncertainty.
Falling in love is worth a heartbreak, and I’m not afraid of the latter; it is the falling and the fear of not being caught that puts this heart into an anticipated uneasiness.
Love is supposed to be easy, it is the fusion of two souls to become one that faces all the restrains.