30 Nov 2012

In Love, Always Will Be.


And when we meet, 
which I'm sure we will.
All that was there, will be there still.
I'll let it pass, and hold my tongue.
And you'll think...
That I moved on.

"She looks beautiful tonight. I muse, leaning against the wall, as she zips up her little red dress. It snuggles around her curves like a second skin. She brushes her unruly hair, that looks as ravishing as the night making love to dawn. I realize I am smiling and staring at her at the same time. Not able to hold myself back anymore, I move towards her and kiss her neck softly. Her dark eyes widen and her beautiful red lips form a tiny "o"in disbelief at my atrociousness, as little goosebumps run across her sinewy arms.
Eyes tell a whole new story, what words can never tell

I chuckle despite of myself and go back to looking at her.

She shakes her head sideways.

"You seem cold. Want a little warmth?" I tease her with a wink, expecting a warm reaction.

It's never too late.

She ignores me mightily. A likely behavior, for she will find more substantial warmth outside tonight, which definitely my arms cannot give anymore. I exhale loudly.

"Have fun." I put my hands in my jacket pockets and give her a non-committal look. She doesn't hear me. The awkward silence that follows is interrupted by the tinkling of her multiple metal bangles.

She finally walks towards me and stops. I expected her to touch me but something in her eyes tell me that she isn't ready yet. To accept me. To love me. Or may be my sudden absence still haunts her, reminding her of her past too much. She raises her beautiful eyes, with tears pooling in her eyes and takes a deep breath. I want to hold her tight and tell her, "I love you." But she wouldn't approve. I already breached my limit by kissing her.

"GO. Before I stop you." I whisper tenderly.

She shrugs, clutching her purse for some warmth and walks out the door, her red pumps clicking on the floor, making my heart hammer around in my chest. My heart, that doesn't beat anymore.

If only I could tell her, I still live with her. If only I could tell her, I may be dead but still alive. If only she could see me here. If only, I could touch her.


Love is dark, love is blind, love is immortal, love is divine .

If you could only see...

It's been a while, isn't it? Some of the rarest things are those that are worth cherishing. Like stories told by Naani or Daadi. And as Maithili says, QOTD - "We all are stories in the end..." Horror and Mysticism have been my favorite genres always, so posts written by Phatichar are the best ones I never forget to read, brilliant weaver of spine chilling and spooky stories. You must check his work out! :D

So, see you more often fellas! Blessed Be!! :)