“Don’t fall in love with her”
Oh but how could I not?
Sweet sixteen. Hormones raging.
Feeling like the king of the world.
Spending hours and hours Infront of that mirror,
Back brushing his hair in the perfect way.
Making sure the shirt is squeaky clean.
Reaching to school as fast as he can.
And rushing past the gates to run upstairs to the classroom.
And there she was.
Everyday. The first one to arrive to school from their class and he was always the second.
Felt like a love story indeed.
Empty benches. Clean chalkboard. No one around.
Just us. Looking and then looking away.
Sweet notes of the classic love song playing somewhere around sombrely.
She loved standing at the far end of the room; beside the window sills.
Looking out onto the concrete basketball court.
He used to worry; if the senior players were what she looked at. But her sheepish smile and the rosy cheeks gave her away.
And don’t be mistaken; her mocha skin made it excruciatingly hard to understand the colour.
They exchanged feeble morning wishes. Nothing more to say.
Two steps forward; three back.
The bet with his friends comes to his mind.
“Tell her before it’s too late. Unless you’re a wuss.”
He ain’t a wuss. He ain’t afraid. He just wants to make sure she won’t walk away. Or worse; say thank you when he tells her how she makes him feel.
About the butterflies that have manifested in his stomach and won’t leave him no matter what.
And about the sudden music that bursts out of nowhere when he sees her.
Does he sound needy? Cheesy? Crazy?
Oh what a tragedy!
Two steps forward. One step back. A few friends come into the class now. It is raining quite hard. Most students will sit home and more importantly; assembly would be cancelled.
That means he can sneak up behind her desk..
And there’s the song again.
The upbeat piano beats; matching his heartbeat.
“Let’s not screw this up”
Deep breath. He walks up to her.
And she looks at him.
Smiling. Expecting. Waiting.
She whispers “don’t fall in love with me”
Oh but how could I not?
Picture Courtesy – Debasmita Chakrabarty
Your behaviour does remind me of the cold and numbing Winter nights,
Pin drop silence on the roads with closed windows, drawn curtains and dimmed lights.
Chilly on the outside. Warm and fuzzy inside.
Your smile does remind me of the hauntingly beautiful Autumn dusks,
Where the whole world stumbles and almost shows their real faces behind those unrealistic masks.
Pretty on the outside. Hiding what not inside.
Your eyes do remind me of the bright sunny days of Summer,
When the birds are always chirping and the trees and flowers murmur.
Happy and energetic on the outside. Even though the circumstances around are far from being alright.
Your voice does remind me of Spring,
When the world comes alive and the planet seems to be doing absolutely alright!
Strong and commanding on the outside. Weary and tired of fighting all alone all the time.
But when people ask me if these are the reason I fell in love with you; I simply smile because they are not why I love you, o sweet friend of mine.
It is not what is easily visible about you that made me fall; rather I fell for you like falling in love with the anticipation of the first Monsoon showers after the departure of a long Summer or like the inexplicable urge to see a flower bloom and welcome Spring after hibernating through a cold Winter!
I guess what they say is true;
Love is not what you see but it is almost always what you feel.
©theblackcurse via Seasons of Love
To be continued from Digne Indigne
But it is about time I try to change myself and be worthy.
Worthy enough to call you my friend.
Worthy enough to hold your hands when the crowd is creating a mess.
Worthy enough to take your name through these cursed lips.
Worthy enough to wipe those unholy tears off of your rosy cheeks!
Worthy enough to make love to you in this summer heat.
Worthy enough to call you my best friend and be so indeed!
Worthy enough to make you my wife one day.
Worthy enough to father our child one day.
Worthy enough to grow old with you and die in your arms one day.
I am worthy of your love, mio amore. This is meant to be. There is no stopping this. No if’s, but’s or maybe’s. You and I will make it till the end and beyond.
I apologise for everything that I did. Wish I could change them back. But I cannot. What I can; I am.
P.S. the title is in French. Translate it.