I close my eyes and think of you. It takes me just a fraction of a second to picture you smiling. It’s a close-up view I have in my head always. You aren’t just smiling actually. You are laughing, gloriously so! You have your glasses on. And your hair is all soaked up and loose, strands falling over your face. You push them aside. And then suddenly you are laughing hard, throwing your head back, with your eyes closed and hand over your open mouth. I remember vaguely why you were laughing.You had managed a wise-crack at me and I was dumb-founded. Then you had launched into that beautiful laughter that still haunts me. But the reason isn’t important. My head knew that too and so it skillfully managed to almost erase everything else, to concentrate on that blissful laughter alone. You had continued that for a full minute. I was shamelessly mesmerized, staring at you the whole time…
Now, ironically so, the moment I see you I want to hug you tight and kiss you. I did that before too, but it just doesn't seem enough now. But more than that I want to tell you what you mean to me. That I cannot live without you. When you were with me I could have done it anytime... I always thought it could never end, that I would end up lazing in the sun in the front-yard of a fine cottage, all old and tattered. But happy, thoroughly so, as I would watch you sitting across me, engrossed in some novel. Yeah, I still remember. You love to read.
The way you smelt. It was not borrowed from any perfume or deodorant or talc. You were always too good for any of those. It was just you! A characteristically wonderful smell. But if anything could be better than that, it was the range of emotions that exploded in me whenever I touched you. You loved to hold hands. And I loved that you let me. You would slip your hand into mine the first chance you got, And if you didn’t, I would. And your skin- so soft, so inviting. First I would just have your palm in mine and within a few minutes we would be feeling each other’s fingers, holding our hands tighter. Then you would lay your head on my shoulder. And your hair! Oh, my god, your hair! It actually had all started with your hair. Weird, I know. But if you ever happened to read this, you would know!. Your hair is, one could say, wavy. And smooth! Bloody smooth at that! And soft. Actually unimaginably so. Ironically, I hated having to touch anybody’s hair till then. You knew this too! But you changed it all. I would sit for hours with your head in my lap. And you would let me play with your hair endlessly. I would curl it up, then straighten it back or try and make weird hairdos. You never used to stop me then. Not once.
I remember when it first happened. You were lying with your head in my lap, eyes closed and such a peaceful demeanor that I assumed you were asleep. I was absent-mindedly playing with your hair, brushing the strands out of your face, when my finger accidentally brushed across your cheek. Immediately, as if in response, you angled your face upwards, towards my hand, as if in appreciation. I responded to that assumption, and I was right. It was then and there that it all started…
You are an angel. Sent down to destroy me, no doubt! But you did that so goddamn gloriously, I would give anything to walk that cursed path again! To love and to be loved again; even if it means I should watch you walk away, all over again. Three years since you walked away, and I can still remember everything like it was yesterday. Even to this day whenever I happen to meet you, series of conflicting emotions explode in me. But the one that stands out is pure awe! Yeah, I am hopelessly addicted to you. And however fucked up that might seem, I just cannot let you go! At least not yet, and may be not ever!
Now, ironically so, the moment I see you I want to hug you tight and kiss you. I did that before too, but it just doesn't seem enough now. But more than that I want to tell you what you mean to me. That I cannot live without you. When you were with me I could have done it anytime... I always thought it could never end, that I would end up lazing in the sun in the front-yard of a fine cottage, all old and tattered. But happy, thoroughly so, as I would watch you sitting across me, engrossed in some novel. Yeah, I still remember. You love to read.
The way you smelt. It was not borrowed from any perfume or deodorant or talc. You were always too good for any of those. It was just you! A characteristically wonderful smell. But if anything could be better than that, it was the range of emotions that exploded in me whenever I touched you. You loved to hold hands. And I loved that you let me. You would slip your hand into mine the first chance you got, And if you didn’t, I would. And your skin- so soft, so inviting. First I would just have your palm in mine and within a few minutes we would be feeling each other’s fingers, holding our hands tighter. Then you would lay your head on my shoulder. And your hair! Oh, my god, your hair! It actually had all started with your hair. Weird, I know. But if you ever happened to read this, you would know!. Your hair is, one could say, wavy. And smooth! Bloody smooth at that! And soft. Actually unimaginably so. Ironically, I hated having to touch anybody’s hair till then. You knew this too! But you changed it all. I would sit for hours with your head in my lap. And you would let me play with your hair endlessly. I would curl it up, then straighten it back or try and make weird hairdos. You never used to stop me then. Not once.
I remember when it first happened. You were lying with your head in my lap, eyes closed and such a peaceful demeanor that I assumed you were asleep. I was absent-mindedly playing with your hair, brushing the strands out of your face, when my finger accidentally brushed across your cheek. Immediately, as if in response, you angled your face upwards, towards my hand, as if in appreciation. I responded to that assumption, and I was right. It was then and there that it all started…
You are an angel. Sent down to destroy me, no doubt! But you did that so goddamn gloriously, I would give anything to walk that cursed path again! To love and to be loved again; even if it means I should watch you walk away, all over again. Three years since you walked away, and I can still remember everything like it was yesterday. Even to this day whenever I happen to meet you, series of conflicting emotions explode in me. But the one that stands out is pure awe! Yeah, I am hopelessly addicted to you. And however fucked up that might seem, I just cannot let you go! At least not yet, and may be not ever!
