She claimed that from the onset she had viewed my approach with a shadow of suspicion. She didn't really know that the assumed onset is not the real one. The real onset dated back to a period that is found amiss today in my memory, I can't say precisely when it started. All I know is that it was sentiment right from the onset, both the assumed and the real.
Sentiment can be a hard thing to measure and control, especially when you're drowning in its pool. I was thrown into a fit of mesmerization and wonder when she informed me of her knowledge about my so conceived emotion. Maybe she recognizes the difference between flame and dust, between lust, whining, and actual compliment. The discovery and her awareness are what I have prayed fervently to never saw the light of the day, I have prayed for the emotion to remain undercover and rally undiscovered. But she knew it! She did unravel it!
And those short moments in her world have enabled me to debunk the myth behind love, the aged myth that meeting and glancing at the visage are necessary catalysts. I deduced that the necessary phenomenon is just a connection and maybe a uniform passion. I quite don't know her temperament, but tossing the coin of speculation, I can say we fall on the same spectrum, that space of introversion, rugged individualism, and oneness. I guessed!
But I fancy every moment with her, the conversation, the long talk and thoughts that were shared. I fancy all those aspirational and inspirational exercises and those moments in that virtual space crafted for us, all we need to always go there are our mobiles and a plethora of talk time.
Even so, I appreciate my method and the manner with which I hid the feelings. But every now and then, there are these pangs and sentiments clenching and unclenching themselves in me, looking for an orifice to escape into the world and her consciousness. I was fully aware that even if she learns that, nothing would come of it except peril. Why? She is taken by someone worthier of her. Her awareness and my flaming passion will only be shrouded with indifference. So what is the point?
But here is a man that is getting too attached, far too attached to her smile, intelligence, and the apparel of demureness. Her voice and smile carry aesthetic values and always ring in my head. That rhythm from her glorious lips soothes my heart. Those things have fierce soothing effects.
And that night, that short conversation that seemed to last. for an eternity, I knew I was busted, caught!
Me: How are you? Glad to hear from you!
Her: Don't tell me you've been waiting for me?
Me: you say wait? Waiting is even an understatement.
Her: Hmm! Why is he getting attached?
Me: I am not getting attached, more like I'm held by a trap in a hole that has no exit point...
But I never really displayed it, I never really sugar coated my feeling.
She revealed her knowledge to me, what she knew and perceived and I couldn't betake myself and put her claim in the abyss of unreality.
This is someone that recognized sarcasm, irony and really played it well, but that night, it was a stark reality and there appears to be no route to flight. I just succumbed.
When the conversation ended, it appeared to me that whatever was evoking the emotion should low lie, whatever is eroding inside me, whatever is withering my muscles and stripping the brain in regard to that issue is something to silently withstand.
Lastly, she said
" I hope prayer and a more deserving soul are capable of filling the void".
Oh really? She was gone. She bears a dance that was never to be born to me, a dance that belongs to another being!
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