“I love you too “, she said.
And tears rolled down his face. Tears made of joy, tears made of uncertain promises, tears made of a deadline too short.
“But we’ve got just one month”, she cribbed,
“I don’t know what happens after a month, but trust me, this one month will be incredible” he said, as their souls collided.
He, too perfect for his age, gentleman of a kind, goal digger by virtue and social beast by spirit, fell for her at the most inappropriate hour.
She, messiest a girl could be, young, wild, carefree fragile kid, discovered his dual existence…that there was within him a child, unwilling to be perfectly grown up.
It was indeed a new beginning, with a deadline too short, when one night,
“Let’s end it”, she said “I am no normal girl, the tiny tumours will soon consume me. You deserve better.” She cried in despair.
“I’d hate myself if I’d leave you alone at this point”, he cried……for her, tears of helplessness drenched their pillows that night.
No promises were made,
Not an ideal love story it seemed,
Yet the love grew like a tree so beautiful,
Sending roots deep and branches high.
Every passing day was smooth as smooth,
Golden evenings setting fire to the love,
“I’m your boyfriend, not your caretaker” he yelled over the phone, “I’m not going to be there for you always “he said, as he silently pushed her away. Tears made of everything but no hope, tears of abandoning her, were ready to invade his heart, but knights in shining armours don’t cry, do they?
The end when arrived,
They were on the edge,
She was ready to jump and he was all set to fly, as they made their onliest promise.
“Promise me you’d take care” he said in a stern voice.
“Promise me you’d never look back” she said in her fragile voice.
With promises to keep and “be grateful” his last words, they parted ways.
A soul he stirred as he flew to kiss the sky,
And she, unknowingly learned to fly.
Teardrops of hope and a beautiful memory, shone from her hazel brown doe-eyes. What are your teardrops made of?
- Nikita Mane