Woe

Her love story remains. Although he does not love her anymore. Not in the way that would make him like her at least. Maybe he has been with her for so long that he feels obliged to stay with her. He does not like the way she talks, walks, engages, breathes, says, does- lives.

She has not been fair to him. Never has been able to meet his expectations. She curbs her inner child and vivacious spirit to suit the demeanour and personality he wants in a woman. But when something is not a part of your nature, you can never give your hundred percent to it, can you?

She always thought the monarchs were conservative. But as it turns out, he is not. He is a dichotomy- liberal when he wants and conservative when he desires, leaving her confused and prone to acting unknowingly in ways that make him find more faults in her than he already does.

But she is conservative in her soul. She may sing, dance, laugh and tease, but would she suddenly take off her clothes and bare herself, comforted by the knowledge that her soul will remain untouched. No she cannot.

This he can not understand. This, he takes as defiance. But this is what can not be changed. This is her- not so black, not so white, not so snow and not so coal.

Passion.

There is fire. It is catching the sleeves of my dress and threatens to engulf my existence. There is anger that can demolish the foundations of a solid structure that we created. There is absolute risk of losing everything in my hands. And then there is want. Pure Passion which is making me so dizzy i can collapse. What a lovely, heady cocktail of emotions.

Worthless

He had redefined the word,”worthless” to her. She was more worthless than the word worthless. He would speak to the whole world, but not her.

He could speak to the majestic palaces, the downtrodden roads, the flowing lustrous locks of a woman, the short stylish apparel, the unkempt persona, but never to her ever waiting and scared eyes.

He would hear her anguished cries and ignore her. He would see the notes she scratched with charcoal, but discard them and pretend he never had sight of them.

He would acknowledge her in public as if he did not know her. Uber Formal. Uber Aloof. and she uber- crushed and embaressed.

The day she mustered all her courage up and softly whispered – “Sire. i awaited a message , a signal, any hint of any sort from you. I have been worried about you.”

He looked straight at her with his iron and cold eyes and said as blandly as he could have: “Why? Please don’t.”

And he walked away.

He walked away leaving her more in love with him. His eyes had pierced her soul and made her weak in the knees.

He walked away making her feel worthless and crushed. His words had pierced through her heart.

…

The end of a beginning

Eons ago, he told her, he loved her. She did not answer. She was so ordinary. How could someone so extra ordinary fall in love with her. He must be joking. Her heart leaped and her fingers trembled with fear and crimson shades of love. She held her tongue.

He persisted. Each day  he threw at her naughty butterflies, which teased her to no end. They kissed her cheeks and pulled her hair. She walked fast and they followed. When she gave up and hid her face in her hands, they caressed her nimble fingers. She cried , laughed and worried. She kept running towards the end of the never ending road, cobble stones snatching at her heels, and there he was. He was standing right infront of her, with his arms oustretched.

She tried to pass him by his side, but he held her by the waist. She closed her eyes in pleasure and pain. Despite the lure and happiness of someone who was pursuing her with such zeal, her heart swirled to a steadily escalating sense of foreboding. Her body went limp with helplesness and she closed her eyes to not be able to face him. she was embaressed , shy, furious and attempting to not get drunk with passion. She yielded and submitted to his embrace. It felt so safe in his arms. After the passage of an eternity, she glanced up, her eyes solemnly pleading and she whispered: “Please tell me, you are not playing. “

He hugged her tighter in assurance and declared,”No.Never.”

and then the magic words, “I will never leave you.”

But he did leave her. She was too different. How could anybody stay with someone so plain for so long? He needed new horizons to stimulate his senses. He told her that she was so good. So, goodness has become a vice.

There was no sense of guilt. He reckoned she could still pick up the pieces of  her broken heart and move on. But he did not know, that the pieces even when patched with the strongest of glue, are in truth cracked after all.

Grief

If she could have drowned in her grief, you would have found her bloated body on the shore already.