My face brightened as I pictured the joy of a rendezvous with her today. An
eternity seems to have gone by since I saw her, and yet her thoughts are as
fresh as dew.
I do wonder what changes time has propelled into her through
all these years. She used to be quite good looking; I know she still retains a
bit of her charm.
It was a long time since we met, yet quite a few bells still
rung loudly in my memory. They were still chiming a dirge when I was apprised
of a meeting with her.
I blessed my stars for this. I felt sure she still didn’t
know of my feelings for her.
There wasn’t a way she
could get a whiff of what I felt for her; I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve.
To be very frank, I myself wasn’t sure if it was love or
another of my infatuations. There have been quite a few, and this could be
another of them.
I like being with her. All aeons of time I spent with her are
like a gold-mine for me. I did my best to preserve the sanctity of all those
golden moments I spent with her for a longer time than their shelf-life, I did
succeed in my endeavours, but I never let her or anyone except me know I love
her.
I never articulated my feeling for her in words. There is so
much to be said, it was so strong; there are absolutely no words to say it all
in. All my efforts have ended in a loud silence.
I end up with a lot
of feelings and emotions, but with simply no words to articulate them in.
Language fails in its basic function of communicating one’s
feelings when one’s feelings and emotions surpass a certain level. I shall have
to bank on something other than language.
I wish I could say all there is to be said in signs and
signals, but I don’t think all symbols to convey all I have in my heart for her
have been devised.
I try to create some signs of my own, but soon realise the
worthlessness of my efforts; my emotions overweigh all signs ever coined.
I love her so much, and I
badly wish I could express my feelings for her. I sometimes wonder why I
can’t store my feelings for her within me.
I wonder why I can’t be content with the conviction that she
is happy; this is, after all, what I want.
I want her to be happy and content. I want her to be happier
than anyone else. I want to reserve a special place in my world for her.
This place shall be exclusively for her, she will be the
only one to live here. She will rule my
world from this place.
All this is going to stand true even if I don’t articulate
my feelings for her. So, I don’t think it is necessary to say it in so many
words.
Our hearts beat at the same pace, speak the same language;
this should be enough.
On the other hand, words signifying my feelings are
like a lump in my throat that insists on
coming out as soon as possible. I feel like someone who needs to throw-up to
expel some extra food he has eaten.
I know I will feel better after vomiting: I will feel a lot
better when I have confessed my feelings for her.
No amount of words were going to be enough to convey all I
feel, I know. Precise words that dig into my heart’s depths and shovel out my
feelings for her were never coined. I don’t think I can ever articulate these
words. No one can.
I will have to coin my own vocabulary, my own lexicon. I
only wonder if she will be able to comprehend my typical language.
A possibility of her inability to comprehend all I have to
say pushes before me a dilemma whether to tell her or not. I don’t think it is
important to tell someone how much you
love him or her as long as there is a mutual understanding.
I wasn’t sure my love is reciprocated in any form. She too
had never said so in words. There wasn’t any way of deducing the truth. I
wonder if it is appropriate to love her even if she didn’t love me.
I began to wonder why her feelings should dictate my
feelings for her. Why should it matter to me if my love was reciprocated in any
form or not? I should be content in affirming the fact that I loved her.
On the other hand, if she didn’t love me, my affection for
her would be wasted on her. But then, it isn’t necessary that she should hold
affinity for me only because I love her.
Somehow, I felt sure she loved me a lot though she doesn’t I
know how much I love her. I love her with all my heart and soul.
I wish I had two hearts and two souls to love her with. One
heart doesn’t seem to be sufficient to contain the excitement I experience when
I think of her.
A scale hasn’t been devised to measure love, although poets
have been to the moon and back in their efforts to make it scalable.
She is to be with me in a short while, and I can’t help
jumping into air with joy at the mere thought of it. She is the only entity required
for me to be happy.
I wonder when this change occurred, I wonder what became of
other elements that were once incremental to my happiness.
A lot is to happen when she is finally here in a short
while. Each aeon of time marks a milestone as it passes; a climax approaches.
I see a glimpse of her as she draws nearer, and a lot
happens.
No comments:
Post a Comment