What is it about separation that seems to tear the soul apart? You meet strangers who become family and friends. And soon you have to bid them goodbye because life beckons. Why is there so much pain in separation? Read more
This story isn’t over, was the last thing I said and meant. It rained again today. But this time I was too weary to write. I ponder on a lot of things. And this time the difference between love and hate. I’m a hopeless romantic- you probably knew that already. Even though I constantly conceal that with a tough exterior. But I can’t lie to myself- even if I lie to others.
So yes I took the trip. And I met someone. We connected within a couple of days and just couldn’t get by without talking. He was eccentric- like me- and I liked him. He is an artiste. Sings for a living. To be honest, I don’t see the job security in that as there are a million other artistes around. Well, who am I to judge? I travel for a living. That’s as insecure as a job can get. Not a job, more like my life. But that’s okay.
He was sweet. His smile was full of radiance like the sun rising from the East over soft blue skies. He was spontaneous. He had this cheerful demeanor and his eyes pierced through the soul.Oh and yes he writes songs. He wrote one for me while we were in Greece and I loved it.
We toured the beautiful streets of Greece hands entwined. He made me laugh a lot more than I can remember doing. maybe I just needed a reason to laugh away my pain. He wasn’t into food and would pass on the traditional meals I was crazy about. I should probably write on the confessions of a foodie as I am one myself.
Greece was a time of refreshing and he definitely made it worth it.
So are we together? You may ask.
He is married.
Found his ring in his guitar case. Of course I asked about it and then he stuttered a bit before explaining how he was having issues with his wife and needed to take a break. Sighs.
Isn’t it crazy how two people who couldn’t get their hands off each other while dating turn out to be two strangers who can’t stand being together in the same room?
Love and hate, such a thin line in between! One day you’re professing your deep undying love for her. The next, you shout hate words and stomp away never to look back.
It’s mind boggling! I once had someone declare his affectionate love for me. Called me all the sweet names in the book. But in the blink of an eye it was all over, and it was like nothing ever happened. The love words were gone. The sweet names, gone. It was as though nothing ever existed. Call me disillusioned.
How thin is the line between love and hate that people easily drift in and out of? Where does the passion all go to?
Love for me is a dream. It’s either I sleep on till death or I wake up and it’s gone. But not everyone likes sleep. Some people just have to wake us back to reality. Rather unfortunate, if you ask me. I wish we could love and not hate. But in reality, I believe more in hate than love. It surprises me when people say they are in love. Maybe I’m just being cynical. But it works fine for me.
Greece was great. His name was George. And no he didn’t use the second ticket I had. I’ll probably use it some other time. But for now, I’m all set to go back home.
The weather is beautiful. The birds are chirping away. I waved at him one last time from the window of the cab, heading towards the airport. My heart is still a mess. But I’ll be fine. This story isn’t over yet. Stay with me.
So I’m starting a new category called the Fiction Fridays and I hope to be posting fiction stories every Friday. This is intended to help me work more on my fictional writing skills as well keep you entertained! This doesn’t interrupt the usual Sunday posts though. Thanks for your support and encouragement as always! ❤ ❤
Here is today’s post!
I’m in a good place. Well, who wouldn’t be while taking in the breath after a fresh rain? I’m sitting in a yoga position, staring out of the window while listening to the birds chirp away. It’s still drizzling outside. I snuggle closer to Dex, my big fluffy bear.
I’m in a good place. This time it has nothing to do with the cozy weather or the weekend that is almost over. I’m in a good place in my heart. I don’t feel it beating as much as it used to when I see him or hear his name. Yesterday he got married. I was there. And I cried. Not because I was particularly happy for him. But because it would have been me. But it wasn’t.
I’m no longer sad. I know I played my cards wrongly. Well, when I make love a game, I lose. But when I don’t care, I get more than I bargain for.
I never liked them. Now I wonder if I’m just writing because the weather is beckoning to my artistic side like a groom beckons his bride? Is that why I always wanted to travel?
He sure wanted to make me his bride but that felt like clipping my wings. He didn’t want a wife who would scarcely be around. But I didn’t want to stay in either. I’m an explorer, call me Dora- or better still, Ford. As in Ford Explorer. The next car I intend to get before sojourning in Kenya.
Home doesn’t feel any different. If that’s what I can call this place. The place where it all began. Out on the cottage on a rainy day. He covered my hair with his shirt, while keeping me company as I waited for my mom who forgot to leave the keys out for me. We talked, we laughed, and we loved. Or so I thought.
I’ve never really gotten the concept of love. One minute you’re in love. The next, you hate them. I mean, isn’t there middle grounds somehow? Or is it all lust? Well, in that case, I lusted after his intellect, got teased by his wit and dived into his mind’s depth. It was never about the physicals-don’t get me wrong, he was good looking. But that wasn’t the main attraction.
We connected. Like a phone to a familiar WiFi. Once I had the password, I never had to retype it. We automatically synchronized. Now I sound as though I’m not over him. But I am! Lies I tell myself.
The tea kettle is whistling in the kitchen. I need to go get a napkin before I get burnt-again. Reminds me of that fateful winter night in Roehampton. We were both reading for our examinations. I was cold and needed some tea. I picked the kettle without a napkin and got burnt. Stupid me! He smiled while treating the injury with some items from the first aid box. His medical degree always came in handy as I was accident prone. Call me clumsy. As in one of the smurfs.
What am I doing? Going round in circles as I always do. Circled round Africa the last year and lost my love in the process. Only saw him on the weekends. Half of which he was working. It’s no surprise he married his colleague. I don’t really care about that. I guess.
7 years down the drain. But I’m good. Flushed the memory. I’m fine.
I wish him a happy life with whatever her name is. I’ll move on. Besides I’ve got two tickets to Greece. One was for him. But it’s okay. There’ll always be another one. This story isn’t over.