He…She

He amused her,

She intrigued him.

He liked to hold tight,

She liked her space in the nights.

They first met for lunch,

He paid,

She ate.

Then for drinks,

And a night of uncomfortable snogging.

She gave it a month,

He gave it a few days.

They gave it another night,

It still didn’t feel right.

They met with friends about,

He had fun.

She had more fun with him around.

Maybe, they thought, maybe there was something like love to be found.

They created a routine,

Of texting, calling, meeting, sleeping.

He still liked to hold tight,

She still would put up a fight.

She had long hair, he loved to wrap around his hands and ride,

He had long legs, she longed to wrap her legs around and sleep.

He insisted on dropping her home every single time,

She cracked jokes about rapists waiting for her in the dark of the night.

33

One night, after,

He held her and made her laugh for an hour,

She thought this could be what love looked like, when you watched above from a tower.

That night, she did not fight, instead slept in his arms,

It felt just right.

Months went by, she stopped giving them a timeline,

He started thinking, “She is mine”.

Yet deep down he knew,

She was like a shooting star,

One blink and she will be gone.

He never blinked, lest away she whooshes.

She knew,

He was like the Earth,

She stood her ground on.

She held on unyielding, lest the universe pulls her deep into its abyss.

He was there, everywhere,

When she went to the bank,

When she met her friends,

When she took her car for a wash.

He was there, all about.

In parties, she often caught him stare at her,

At her animated conversations.

In parties, he never caught her,

Never caught her, looking at him, memorizing every detail of his face, like a compulsion.

 

A year flew by,

Their love bloomed,

Like that of a limitless magical forest,

But the fabric of time and space had decided their fates, even before they were born.

Never destined to be together, they were lovers doomed to be torn.

They knew it was time to move on.

He wanted them to be at least, friends,

“Lovers can’t turn into friends”, she declared,

Her past had experienced.

She insisted on a clean cut,

He thought she did not give a fuck.

 

One day,

Just like that they stopped,

Ended the routine of texting, calling, meeting, sleeping.

One evening,

No matter how much he wanted,

He did not ask if she reached home safe.

One night, no matter how much she longed,

He was not there to hold her tight.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months.

Some nights, lying next to his new wife,

He howled at the moon, calling out to her,

Wishing the sacrifices he made for his mother were enough.

Some nights, staring at sleeping innocence,

She held her only child, tight,

Wishing the hours spent in memorizing his face would last for a lifetime.

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