Closing your eyes.
You are holding your breath. Inhaling sharply as needed. Anxious. You are a complete wreck. Tears rolling. Rolling down your cheek. You have been waiting for a voidable era. You are sweating. Your hands are clammy. A bead of sweat rests on the bow of your lips. Your cheeks are flushed. You are in shock. Your arms are folded tightly across your stomach. You are feeling the pounding of your heart through your brain. You are hearing your thoughts. Nothing. Thunderous silence. Your eyes are not moving. But every now and then you look at your feet. Sharply lifting up your head when a could-be-hope arises. Hope that is due to come around the corner. You are looking at your feet. Examining the metallic red that embellishes your toe nails. You look at the edge. Buffed to a straight square. Out of the corner of your eye. Something moves. You snap your head up. Disappointment. You blink. Pause. Gasp. Breathe out. Close your eyes. You are smiling.
Pounding against the marble, the arches of your feet act as springs. Enlivened, you embrace hope, and hope embraces back. All the scars, that were once carved into your heart, are vanishing. You look into hope’s eyes, and hope looks back. Hope is mirroring you. Hope has been mirroring you for a long time now. Just a week back, scars were digging deeper and deeper into the flesh of your heart. Hope called. The scars started to fade away. Now that hope is here, they are all gone, as established before. Now the tears are sprinting down your cheeks, rather than rolling, as they were doing so before. As strong and reserved as hope is, a tear jumps of the cliff and free falls, vanishing from your view. Hope is here. He. Is here. Your first love. Is. Here.
Life is now pouring back into you as you unravel from your statue of a state. The roar of the airport is tearing at your eardrums. You pull away from him and wipe the tears from your flushed cheeks. Smiling, you take the handle of the suitcase away from his hand and walk forth without a word. He snatches the handle from your hand, and cradles your sweaty hand with his other hand. His thumb is stroking yours. Loading the car with his luggage, he is on one side and you at the other; you don’t dare steal another view. He opens the door of the car as you get in. The driver bumps the accelerator, but you are too dazed to even have noticed the jerk.
He pulls you onto his lap and puts his forehead against yours. This reminds you of all the times he kissed your forehead. You are taken aback at first, but then unwind yourself. With closed eyes, a salty drop crawls down your cheek. He notices that you are crying and wipes away your tear. He then kisses the part of your cheek where prior tears have since crystallized into multi-faceted saline precious stones. You are opening your mouth to say something as he places his finger against your lips. He pulls you towards him. Both of your foreheads resting against each other as before. Your mouths are open, not touching though. You are inhaling while he is exhaling. He is inhaling as you are exhaling.
The car arrives at your destination. You take him inside. He is hungry so you bring him some fruits. You are both lying on the couch. His back against the sofa, and your back against his chest. Both of your legs are intertwined. One of his hands is holding your hand. The other hand is picking fruits from the bowl held by your hand and resting on your stomach. He takes a piece of fruit and places it in your mouth. His finger brushes against your lips for what seems like an eternity. An eternity that lasts for the slightest fraction of a second.
He kisses the back of your head. The fruit bowl is empty so you place it on the coffee table next to the couch. You are getting up to put the bowl away, but something is stopping you. He is grabbing you by the hand. He pulls you on top of him so you are an atom away from each other. He brushes your lips with his, but before he can kiss you, you get up smiling at him with a seductive look. You go to the bathroom and undress. Leaving the door open, you step into the shower and turn it on.
Warm water is slipping off your skin. You hear the door opening. You are not taking your eyes off each other’s gazes. He is undressing; all the while you are staring into each others’ eyes. He is joining you in the shower. You gracefully place your hand out. He is readily reaching for it. You both stand under the luke warm water. Forehead to forehead. Chest to chest. Palm to palm. Fingers to fingers. Feet to feet. Your fingers clasp and he leans in. He is kissing your neck, making his way up to your lips. But just as the uppermost part of his lip touches the bottom most part of your lip, you lean back and turn the shower off. You are opening the shower door as he gives a half smile, amused at your persistence. You are about to take the towel from the handle, but he is sweeping you off your feet.
Before you know it, he is carrying you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He is lying you down, lowering himself down next to you. You are pulling the white bed sheets over both your heads. The sun is potent, breaking through the tightly knit fibers. Shinning brilliantly. Turning your world into sepia. Lying on your sides, you face each other. One hand is propping your head up, while the other is placed against his palm, hovering in the air. You both are looking at you hands. Twirling them around. His gaze is swiveling towards you. You are smiling, then turning to look towards him. He is smiling too. He is looking into your eyes full of questions. Nodding, you break into a grin. He places his hand under your chin. You both are closing your eyes. He is pulling you towards him. As you did before, he is exhaling when you are inhaling, and you are exhaling when he is inhaling. After a couple of breaths, your lips are just about touching.
Opening your eyes.
You are looking at the ring on your frail and bony finger. You are looking at the ring on reality’s wrinkly finger. Tears are welling in your eyes as you shut them and go back to your subconscious world. After repeated trials, you are giving up. You are crying yourself to sleep. Memories of the wish, slipping away. Tear by tear.
