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Tape a tale

"Let me fit you into a locket", said he. He was a hopeless romantic , whom she could never understand. She mused, couldn't he carry those warm feelings in his heart, why would she be needed to fit into an odd sized locket dangling on his neck!

They both had been together since long, so much so that he still could point out the exact years when she had her pimples. Well, he was madly in love with her, even she was but with time as they grew, he grew obsessed. She felt stifled , suffocated out of the intensity of love he displayed. Slowly, she found they had everything but love had silently slipped away from the window without leaving a trace to bring it back to them.

She tried to the last bit possible, forsaking a part of herself each time. But as they say, love blinded him so much so that he couldn't even feel the void she packed beneath her smile. He had begun to hurt her each time he took her to bed. The bruises reminded her of her decaying soul which pleaded each night to break free. But, she was trapped, trapped in her own web of love.

What did she long for in those summer nights of torments, he could never understand. She wanted to break free and belong to the star lit sky whereas he preferred to cage the moonbeams in their bed . Those creased bedsheets could be ironed but her heart, who could stitch back it's pieces which had drifted apart?

So, she decided to end it: to end being a lover, to end being in love. It wasn't easy but it was better than dying each day. She silently moved away not leaving a trace.

He must have made a search , she knew it would have been  suffocating for him without her around but she no longer could deceive him. She could sell off her skin to him but how could she trade her soul?

Days rolled into years of pain, but pain has a language of its own, it keeps one alive yet doesn't allow anyone to live , they just exist. It was one sultry afternoon when she decided to call him, she wasn't yet sure if his number still existed. But, though she chose to end everything, she couldn't yet get past her feelings for him, as they say feelings seldom die, they just lie submerged deep within which keep surfacing as blisters to a wound.

She could hear a voice from the other end, a feeble voice which died in the wind to reach her ears as  whispers. It was him. What could she say, she never was good with words, she kept hugging the receiver while silence did the talking. He must have sensed it was her , for the only words he said were , I still smell your perfume in the creased bedsheets which never got ironed!

And she kept hugging the receiver until the day gave away to night and the night to a new day devoid of hope!

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