Someone spells me out of scribbled letters,
The blotted papers of yellowing memories
Cringe in an autumn humid afternoon.
I hear my name, I hear the clink of words in abstraction,
I nod in despair: Twice.
A sea of memories plunge out of those yellowing letters.
I pull my scarf out in the wind,
It's fragrance makes my heart flutter
I tie it in loops over my head
Concealed and secure
I let loose those blotted papers
Those ink stained letters do know
Who I am, don't they?
"My love is enough for both of us", she often felt those words ring in her heart. She finally had understood that life wouldn't always follow her designs. That people are meant to leave but their memories won't. She often had wondered how someone could love her to such an extent when that person had always known that she wouldn't reciprocate those feelings. How could a person stand by her when she always acted as a fleeting shadow. She never had given hope for she knew the pain of dejection but he kept hoping like a hopeless vagabond. How she wished that he would some day hate her enough to let go. She devised ways to free him from this web, she acted cold, turned indifferent, did everything he detested and she finally saw some changes. It was a relief, he finally seemed to take hold of his life. She could see him grow responsible. He finally it seemed was learning to love himself. Phone calls died, meetings subsided, they become known strangers. All this while ...
Comments
Post a Comment