Halfway through the novel, the heroine realized to her great misfortune that she was just another villain in somebody else's book-interpreted movie. The concept of how a sky of dead stars evoked such melancholic and romantic feelings compared to the way your brown eyes bore into my very own on that particularly uninteresting day, suddenly seemed bleak. Yet, around us, it felt as if the world still moved; no watchful eyes stopped and stared. Two novae collided and there was no boom, not even a small whimper; all was quiet, too quiet, like the both of us barely existed.
There are all the stories I grew surrounded with as a child which constantly put a pressure onto the moment or rather, in my case, moments glorified with a change in the air, the picking up of the wind, the earth itself stilling on its axis and all that is around you becoming blurry. That's not love, that is fiction; very badly written one. One fellow author had captured my attention by their definition of love,
'Love can exist for you as long as you believe you can choose to love whomever'.
The day I saw you, I hadn't risen from my bed with the birds chirping out my widow as the sun rays drew my heart contented sighs, instead it started quite exaggeratingly numb. I did not even bother with the delicacies of breakfast in the need to rush to catch a bus to go to an institution whose sole reason it even is granted with my presence is because of my love for learning. While my classes enchant me, as it has always proved to be more beneficial compared to the concrete living beings around me, (quite the Slytherin of me) I, nevertheless, did not find any sign at all that you and I would meet.
Though the romantic in me whispers how that is the beauty of it all, my other voice still exclaims on the sappy situation. For a love story like ours to blossom with intricate details in our present time, we surely did not start well. I saw you as an obstacle, simply put; on a day that my mind coalesced with thoughts that she was taught and thoughts that she was born with, you became a stop sign on my highway to hell. I was not ready for you to prove me wrong.
Writing about you is harder compared to when you asked me if I liked you; it is as if all the stars of the universe struck me in the same place and while some might call this writer’s block, I simply call it being in love with you. The days we spent together went pass me without whispering of their importance and so, when I try to remember little intricate details of significance such as the day and date you graced me with a first kiss, or when you told me you loved me for the first time, even when we shared our intimate nature together, I can barely remember.
Yet, I can’t deny of being haunted by the warmth that seeped through your uniform shirt when I held you for the very first time as you clung to my torso as if I was your only reason to be where you were. There, behind the new school block, we fell together in sync as time ticked away surrounded by familiar faces. I do not forget how the sun blinded me when I rushed away professing to you how much I liked you and still, my tongue, tied together, acted on its own to which later I would blame my inability of handling things under pressure when I know deep within, I have prospered under these similar situations.
Falling in love with you was a splash of cold water when you realize you haven’t breathed and you start to choke and just when you think you are safe from the dangers of one of the main elements, cold water surprises you again. It renders you to a messy state of overwhelming euphoria that lasts for longer than euphoria should. Then again, to label it as euphoria would be an injustice; to label is to limit, and for all the days we have been living, in highs as in lows, our love has only proved to be without boundaries. Love, still, does not come easy; it is a storm that takes your ability of thinking away. As much as it is beautiful, it still spins you around until you do not understand the pattern of your respiratory system. That’s exactly how I felt every time I sat beside you, talking about nothing and everything, on the bench, symbolical as it is, in between the compartments of our separate classes. You were made of matter that was different to mine; and still, I wanted to fly in the same cosmos as you. I never plagued myself to be a constellation, just a sole star that got strayed away from the bigger something. There you were, a body filled with overwhelming and pure imagination, and my shaking hands grasped as trepidation that ran down my spine.
To realize that I loved you was not a gradual inclination, rather it was the backlash of a whip; impudent and traumatizing. As it turns out, school events brought us together as talking acquaintances as it brought us in one big room rehearsing for a play I was acting as Cinderella in and you the narrator where the clumsy princess stumbled upon a charming man whom she was not supposed to end up with but oh her quivering mess of a heart wouldn't have it any other way. The trigger of that very realization happened according to a timeline where you gave one pitiful yet innocent attention to another sweet harmless girl and that heart who rebelled against me sent me flying to the other side of the room angrily trying to hide my distressed state beneath eyes that betrays me. I had a lot of faith in myself during those days, but it was not faith as much as it was delusions. So forth, the few minutes that came after, I elected myself as perfectly capable of standing in the room with you, immune to the warmth of your arms when you came next to me and neutral to the way your lips smiled that smile that felt like it only showed in front of me. I fled from you to go sit on a chair where I deemed to be safe and knew then, I was too far gone to ever come back to normal.
What came after that, I am not entirely proud. I am a Slytherin and we are not said to brave it out. I wrapped a cocoon around me, parading on eggshells while holding the burden of being in love with you on both my shoulders. Nevertheless, as much it troubled me, I wanted you to have no part of it though I couldn't hold my tongue. The human body, in sickness, will act on instinct and combat the negative. I went to those in our circles, at first it was one and consequently became everyone but you, relieving that lump in my throat that, no matter how much I had tried to swallow, would not budge. At that moment, that short sigh of being able to say out loud of how I loved you was enough to calm me down from irrationality.
Now some may wonder; why make it so complicated when instead I could have simply told him? There were two reasons why. The first one was that I had never had to be the one who confessed of catching feelings first, people always fell for me before I could even register it in my head. The second one though was one I claimed with an utmost importance. You were already involved with somebody else. Having your heart erratically beating till it threatened you of leaving your body for a person who you do not deserve is wrong. It would be unfair of me to plague another innocent girl due to my own selfish want and destroy a mind of a man who was undoubtedly respectful. So, I kept to myself that morbidity, away from harm, away from light. As I rotted in darkness for two weeks, ignoring the screams of friends who looked a lot like foes begging me to at least tell you, I was unaware of the fact you had detangled yourself from her long before I came in the picture.
There is two types of insanity I went through in all the years I have lived on this earth; one is called dubious, reputed for its uncertain nature escalating into a spiral of confusing messes, and the other is The Borderline. At the start of April 2016, when I realized about how I felt for you, I had distanced myself yet, with upcoming school events, being in the same room as you were inevitable. Seeing the golden hairs on your arms glisten in the sun as we sat in the canteen was beyond my control and even less, when you would playfully confront me and I would put on my fighting stance. I could never back down from a confrontation with you. Although, all the beautiful things in my life always came at a particularly life-changing event.
From the ripe age of twelve, I met a man who I would later call a friend for him only to become the one with whom I could share a life with but all too soon, I grew up to realize there was so much more other than a future already planned out for me by someone else. That chapter of my life took five years in all and when I met you, it was coming to its fin. Falling in love was an instantaneous moment but when I found you, it wasn't when I met you, rather finding you took me quite a while. In the month of April, when school started after our involvement as a team in the Model United Nations during our vacation, I believed that would be the end of being so close with you but all that went in the abyss. Your friends were my friends and soon enough, we were all too involved with one another to be apart. On the day of our educational tour organized by the school, disastrous me did not think of wearing sneakers and there, as we climbed, you and I stuck together, helping each other and those after us, as one, as a team. As if being close to you was not enough, I found as I arrived near the waterfall just how much the man who I spent five years trying to live with restrained me from the life I wanted for me. I set myself free that very evening.
There was this repeating pattern that revealed itself with you and I; as much as I believed that I will not see the ends of you ever again, out of the blue, you magically appeared, barging into my life, leaving the door wide open for all the air you carry to sneak into my atmosphere as you lay down your feet on the sofa, installing yourself in the cradle of my heart as you make it a home. You rest your eyes right there and then I cannot seem to have it in me to wake you. So, you stayed. You stayed until you blended in my background of perfectly misplaced things. That's when we come back to the paragraphs above us where I find the trigger that alerts my brain that I was incandescently in love with you.
As April ended, our quiet chatting session on the bench explored ideas of a grand vastness and soon enough, they expanded further to the point where even in the sonata of our homes, the conversations kept going. May was our month, the place where we settled an us. Though, as complex as we were as individuals, coming together as one did receive its proper amount of confusion but you and I, we made it through.
Nights came and stars fell as we rose to the sweet chirps of the birds with sun rays gracing a new dawn, I came to understand; fairytales aren't made, they are told with love; with a phone near the ear to hear the sound of your soft snoring as the clock strikes midnight, I told mine.
Two years later, I sit here on the bed as the cold wracks my body, goosebumps appearing on my bare flesh; home has never been cozier, I remember all that you went through for me, to get to me, to get to loving me in the darkest hours of our lives, to tell me all is fine with your eyes boring through my very own. Two years in the making did not come as easily as the changing of the line, to making a new paragraph as I make out the first three words of such burdened importance emphasised in bold. It took numbing bad days, sulking disputes that were vicious to our health and our sleeping patterns. Even the good, even the bad and the in between, all made us, all shaped us to this very day as I tell the tale that many know so vaguely.
You see, readers, it took hospital beds, unsupportable migraines, cold nudging to be able to appreciate the warmth of a Saturday after tuition where we would cuddle at 11 in the morning, eating in harmony at the table with our mom, laughing silent as we telepathically converse. Our minds, one, coalesce but not in chaos, in calming waves mimicking the ones from the ocean so close to our good days.
Loving you was instantaneous.
But we fell in love as we talked till midnight.
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