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soliloquy; ephemeral landings
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Posted on Thursday, 28 November 2013 @ Thursday, November 28, 2013
I’ll See You Soon, My Once In A Blue Moon
“Can I hold your hand?” Austen asked, almost with a
sense of overwhelming nervousness. The July breeze caressed my skin as the
trees danced in the wind. I looked over to Austen and laced my fingers through
his with a smile. “Why not?” Austen glanced at me for a split second before
squeezing my hand gently. He kissed the back of my palm, so softly, it was
barely there. Nevertheless, it sent a rush of warmth coursing through my soul,
my heart. As we made our way to our favorite bench at the park –hand in hand- I
realized that moments like these were the best. Our footsteps paved the warm
July evening, dry leaves crunching beneath every tread.
∞∞∞∞∞
“Read it for me.”
No matter how many times he read the
poem to me, it was never enough. There was just something enchanting about it,
the way it rhymed with the entwining of our lives. A compelling story behind a
paper of words and ink, so simple, yet irrevocably indescribable.
“The first glance I took of you, never have I seen such an
ethereal view.”
I closed my eyes, and leaned in closer to his chest. He caressed my hair and kissed it softly, lingering for a moment or two before continuing to read the browning piece of paper. In 5 years, he had read the poem to me five hundred and four times. I never intended on counting the times he read it, but somehow, just somehow, the numbers kept running through my mind the day after. It did not seem significant in any way, but then again life does not really run along with logic. Just sometimes.
I remember the first time we met. It
was not fairly romantic, given the circumstances. It was mid December; the
winter season seemed a hundred degrees close to murder. I was walking home from
the store across the street, my arms full of groceries for the month. Despite
the weather, I stubbornly chose to splurge on two tubs of ice-cream. For the day when the sun melts the snow on
the front lawn, I thought to myself. I was running low on chocolate powder,
but hot chocolate could wait. Images of my mother ran through my head - flashes
of events where I dreaded her finding my guilty pleasures in the freezer when
she came to visit my miserable apartment 5 miles away from my childhood home-
and for a second I contemplated on whether or not to hide the stash in my best
friend Juliet’s house.
I must have looked at my feet when I
walked, because after what seemed like few minutes, I found myself on the hard
pavement with my two tubs of ice-cream horrendously splashed on the sides of
the road. It was undeniably embarrassing, but a total stranger came up to me and
the first thing he did was chuckle.
“I can get you three more tubs of
that.”
“Thank you, but no thank you.” I
stood up hastily and gathered the remains of what was supposed to be the last
of my cash for the week. I muttered something I could not quite remember under
my breath, although I am ashamed to say it would have killed my mother’s pride
and dignity.
“No please, really. I’m sorry. I’ll
get you whatever you want from the store. I feel really bad for doing that.” He
held out his hand. “Austen.”
I scrutinized this man, skeptical of
his offer and sudden introduction. I had practically nothing to live on for the
next week, and I was planning on spending a lonely weekend with my two tubs of
ice-cream. I probably started crying the next second, because in the following
minute I found myself in the café with a hot cup of chocolate and four new tubs
of Wall’s. I knew I looked like hell, and I sure as hell was surprised to see
Austen sipping his coffee in front of me.
“Thank you.” I sniffed, almost
banging my head on the glass table when I heard how pathetic I sounded. “Look, I am really very sorry for upsetting
you.” He reached across the table and patted my hand gently, before withdrawing
almost a millisecond after that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you.” He looked
genuinely embarrassed at himself for his mild show of affection, and stared at
the ant crawling on top of the shopping bag. “Nahh, it’s okay. I wasn’t looking
where I was going either. My mother says my eyes are more of a nuisance than a
benefit. I always wonder how she’d react if I come home blind instead. Probably
would’ve flipped every single pan in the kitchen and praised the good Lord.” “Ah, well maybe you could try.” He grinned,
and we both broke out in good hearted laughter.
∞∞∞∞∞ I do not know why or how, but I found myself spending the rest of my afternoon –and the afternoons to come- with Austen after that incident at the pavement. There was something attractive and shy about the way he talked, his deep brown eyes piercing into the air between us, right through the bricks of the walls I built around myself in the past. We eventually made plans for lunch to meet each other at the very same café he brought me to on that chilly December afternoon for three months and a half, before stumbling upon the wooden bench in the neighborhood’s park and changing our routine.
I believe things happen for a
reason. Sometimes the reason lies beneath a million and one stories, imploring
one to delve deeper into it, eventually stumbling upon somewhat of serendipity.
Austen was one I never expected.
“Four letter word with everything in place, two hearts amidst a touch of grace.”
∞∞∞∞
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Kaleidoscope of Craziness
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