As I drifted off shore with eyes soaked in the glittering tears of memories that thousand nights of togetherness have created, they were too reluctant to let me go. But I must— a voice inside me is whispering to my ears and forcing me to overlook the laughter we shared, the love we showered on.
I looked at the horizon with a shimmering hope of leaving the nostalgia behind, but the seagulls crying in a distant place hovering over a fishing boat to collect the bounty of leftovers is reminding me of how you were complaining about them stealing your ice cream the other day on the pebble beach.
Damn thief— you shouted and I laughed and laughed only to realise later you are about to explode in anger as I said they did a good job picking on you. You were not aware, but the rosy cheeks reminded me of why I fell in love with you in the first place. And blended with your dark hair, I could easily endorse how beautiful you are!
Believe me, my heart moaned with the composition of beauty you behold; spread over every curve, every wrinkle following your birthmark in the upper arms.
It took me a while to come to my senses as I was lured into your youthful charm; my inner self was captivated by the disgust your facial expression expressed— untethered like a dead river wrapped in dense hyacinths but bustling with millions of dancing flowers.
Will you please pass me a tissue— your appeal reached my ears as sirens calling me to submit myself in your arms without resistance. Stilled by the sweetness of your enchanting voice, my heart stopped beating for the time being, lest they fail to turn your tone into a symphonic tune. Stop staring at me for god’s sake— you wiped the ice cream in my shirt and said, is that better now; as the grin on my face was getting wider and wider.
Should I buy you another— I asked, but without nodding to my request, you snatched mine, saying— how about you buy one for yourself. Trust me, I wished I had hundreds of them in my hand.
With that ice cream in hand, you unleashed the childish self you tried to hide in yourself and excitedly started the story of a Robin nesting in the tree of your campus. But soon, it turned into a rant about why I didn’t have any story to share with you.
And I literally didn’t have one, not even to this date— as I am a listener and could sense you have stories to tell, thousands of them. Being a mindful listener, you never found it disappointing to share your excitement with me— a memory I will cling to my last breath, weakened by packs of cigarettes.
