"All it took was a day.
A day to see you in a different way.
Unaware of how I felt, you had no say.
Maybe things were better like that with our feelings at bay."
-B.
I have lived great tales and have filled more roles than I think myself worthy of. From being the Juliet of a hopeless romantic boy I could not bring myself to love and to being a young woman with an abusive partner, I have lost my way many times in the stories I fell in love with. One in particular marks me till today.
This is the love story that never happened.
His eyes were like a marbled masterpiece centered to all the unexplained beauties of the world. He had the softest touch even if his hands had several callouses from playing the guitar and drums too much. I would stand in a room and he would still manage to take my breath away. It was like meeting love again, just as I did when I was eleven. But, love had a different face and was my best friend.
Nobody knew about us.
I kept him for me and he loved being my secret. We spent as much time as we could together; from singing in the old music room to being the epitome of reckless youth as we crossed the road in the morning on our way to school.
I wished we had lasted longer.
So many words left unsaid, we ate our vegetarian boiled noodles at the end of the school-day in a snack with people between our seats but we always sat across one another. If life would not allow us to hold hands, at least we would maintain eye contact.
There never goes a day I do not think about the way our story unfolds.
I would always tell him that we could have never met. I was too shy and he was too..popular. If you could see his face, you would understand. I never had any chance to begin with. But, Mr. Green Eyes, with a smug smile on his lips, batted his pretty eyelashes and flirted shamelessly at me in the presence of my unsettled boyfriend.
We lived secret adventures and drank coffee cups from the machine.
He would always come a little too close as if he was gambling with his life and testing his luck. The days coming to an end, he would hold me a little longer in a hug. Standing in the hallways, his hand would find mine without failure. His breath played with my own one too many times when we would talk quietly to each other. He would look in my eyes on our way home in the bus with his face intimately close to me and I would wonder then as he asked me, "how are you?", is he in love with me?
Life had impeccable timing...
I had sat on the stairs next to the old music room of my school once weeping over a boy who was imminently bent on breaking my heart and he found me. It was the annual fund-raising day and I had ran from the stares of my seemingly best friends who gobbled on my tragedy instead of bringing me comfort. I took one small glance at him before succumbing to my vulnerability. He had traces of unshed tears in his eyes by the time I could breathe properly. All the while, he held me. A silent soldier fighting a battle I was bound to lose; but most importantly, he was my friend.
He loved me true.
When I lost the battle, I erased him off for the six months through the end of the year. By the time school was back with a brand new chapter, I had made the terrible mistake of lightening an old flame. He watched from afar, stood in the distance and allowed me the space I could not give myself. When the moments all came and went, he sat on the same stairs with me again. I was weeping still and he had wisps of tears; the only difference, our music room had moved. We had a new building for ourselves now.
I will always remember.
The music room was our safe place. A home where we belonged. A haven for our souls. We spent hours singing and playing. He taught hopeless me some tunes on the guitar and I made him practice his vocal chords. And we danced. No matter how dreadful we were and how uncoordinated our footsteps. We lived each minute because each one was one we could not afford to waste.
The days end.
He stood with me even when I met the man I am with today. Loved me through the storms that came my way. Brought me comfort when life seemed too hard to breathe. Gave me more than I had wished. His green eyes carried nothing but love for me. I had to bear many heartbreaks in my life but his, was the sweetest.
The last day of school on the bus stop, as we parted ways, he gave me a piece of paper.
"Read this when you miss me."
He had looked devastatingly beautiful and his eyes were bathing in the glow of the almost sunset. A moment frozen in time, he and I stood there for barely a few seconds before I boarded the bus. That was my best friend I had loved with my whole heart looking at me with longing. A man who stuck through my hardest without anybody knowing and he had wished nothing in return. He had never complained, never whimpered. I had loved him but not like he loved me.
My dear reader, I am a firm believer in the universe and its conspiracies to make your path cross with those who will mark your very existence.
The last time he held me was the first time I felt the stars leaving my body.
Goodnight.
To B.
"For the oceans,
Through the sun,
With the wind,
Came the earth."
-Yours in a moment and until we meet again,
H.H
We lived secret adventures and drank coffee cups from the machine.
He would always come a little too close as if he was gambling with his life and testing his luck. The days coming to an end, he would hold me a little longer in a hug. Standing in the hallways, his hand would find mine without failure. His breath played with my own one too many times when we would talk quietly to each other. He would look in my eyes on our way home in the bus with his face intimately close to me and I would wonder then as he asked me, "how are you?", is he in love with me?
Life had impeccable timing...
I had sat on the stairs next to the old music room of my school once weeping over a boy who was imminently bent on breaking my heart and he found me. It was the annual fund-raising day and I had ran from the stares of my seemingly best friends who gobbled on my tragedy instead of bringing me comfort. I took one small glance at him before succumbing to my vulnerability. He had traces of unshed tears in his eyes by the time I could breathe properly. All the while, he held me. A silent soldier fighting a battle I was bound to lose; but most importantly, he was my friend.
He loved me true.
When I lost the battle, I erased him off for the six months through the end of the year. By the time school was back with a brand new chapter, I had made the terrible mistake of lightening an old flame. He watched from afar, stood in the distance and allowed me the space I could not give myself. When the moments all came and went, he sat on the same stairs with me again. I was weeping still and he had wisps of tears; the only difference, our music room had moved. We had a new building for ourselves now.
I will always remember.
The music room was our safe place. A home where we belonged. A haven for our souls. We spent hours singing and playing. He taught hopeless me some tunes on the guitar and I made him practice his vocal chords. And we danced. No matter how dreadful we were and how uncoordinated our footsteps. We lived each minute because each one was one we could not afford to waste.
The days end.
He stood with me even when I met the man I am with today. Loved me through the storms that came my way. Brought me comfort when life seemed too hard to breathe. Gave me more than I had wished. His green eyes carried nothing but love for me. I had to bear many heartbreaks in my life but his, was the sweetest.
The last day of school on the bus stop, as we parted ways, he gave me a piece of paper.
"Read this when you miss me."
He had looked devastatingly beautiful and his eyes were bathing in the glow of the almost sunset. A moment frozen in time, he and I stood there for barely a few seconds before I boarded the bus. That was my best friend I had loved with my whole heart looking at me with longing. A man who stuck through my hardest without anybody knowing and he had wished nothing in return. He had never complained, never whimpered. I had loved him but not like he loved me.
My dear reader, I am a firm believer in the universe and its conspiracies to make your path cross with those who will mark your very existence.
The last time he held me was the first time I felt the stars leaving my body.
Goodnight.
To B.
"For the oceans,
Through the sun,
With the wind,
Came the earth."
-Yours in a moment and until we meet again,
H.H
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