Friday, March 21, 2014


She thought about the proximities of love. About abstinence and role play. Her addiction to cold coffee. His addiction to her. Her to his smell. His to her breasts, her smile, her feet, her thighs. Separation, distances both virtual and real. Could she make his realise that she was a person first, an object of desire later? Could he understand that she loved him, deeply, but the expanse of land which separated them, across miles, railway tracks and highways may be separating them in their minds too?

Of course it was preposterous to think of separating. It takes courage, hardwork and a lot of strength to make relationships work. His stubble gliding down the broad of her neck, she could do without it. But his smile, his smile and the angst on his face when she missed a meal or was out too late, could that be replaced? Or the letters he wrote and the words he used? 

There were times she shut her eyes too tight trying to sleep or was simply wide awake because love wasn't supposed to be as convoluted and far from reach. She wrote about it too, feebly, making attempts to recuperate. She thought about the times they spent together, that one time when he was sick, the only time he was sick around her; she couldn't do anything to ease his pain. She didn't know how to. She didn't take care of herself when she fell sick but merely tossed on the bed, had soup and coffee and drown in a pile of tissues. In that sense, she was really low maintenance. 

Maybe she is used to giving up too easily. Maybe tangible relationships isn't her thing. Maybe she was a cynic first and a lover later. Could she be consumed by love but not feel it at all? She had this crazy thought of cutting her hair really short, because he loved her hair and maybe metaphorically if she could rid of the things he loved about her, she could dispense off her feelings for him as well?

Love defiles life and strangely it defines it too. Oh. Yes. The glide of her head on his heaving chest, the affirmation that attraction is never sedentary, that it either consumes you fully or doesn't affect you at all. 

No comments:

Post a Comment