In Silence

conversations

"Hi, you've become so tall," he said, examining me with eyes filled with gasps.

"Ya, we kind of had a sudden growth in the 11th standard," I replied while a crease swept across my face. He looked so starved for attention. Geeking over me with those pigeon eyes Those long, scrawny legs looked as long as sticks on paper, and clothes as if hanging out on those fallen shoulders. The offset of red spots is telling me how hormones have started THEIR COLD WAR on his face, sorry, my face. I was looking at myself from 10 years ago.

He paused and asked, hesitatingly, "Are we still reading books?"

"Yes, but not as much as we used to; now we write them."

"really?" His eyes had shooting stars in them. I chuckled a bit but was worried about what he was going to ask next.

"So how many have you written?" Curious hearts don't understand boundaries. He asked the question I have always been running from.

"Only one," I said, taking a deep breath.

The smile started losing its grip. "only one... Is it good?"

"Not really; I just vent out my feelings." I went quiet—really quiet. I questioned what I had been doing until now. I wrote one book, and that is also one of which I am not proud.

"What is it about?" he asked, holding on to the last hope in himself.

I replied, looking away.

"heartbreak"

"We found love? Is it like the one we read in books? Does she also like reading books? Does she also watch Anime?" He wasn't in the slightest bit worried about the heartbreak; maybe he wasn't aware of the pain. The hope of being loved was far greater than falling out of love. I envy how he could see love the way it doesn't hurt to think about losing someone. Here I am, still struck by things long gone.

My throat felt as if someone held my trachea and slowly pressed it. The air is struggling to breathe. My voice cracked a bit. "No, she wasn't anything like we imagined her to be."

His expression quickly shifted from hope to wonder—not just any wonder but the wonder of why. That happens between eyebrows struggling to reach the nose. "Then why did you love her?"

I smiled, looking at him, and said, "How do I explain? There are some chocolates we love and some we just came across one day; they become our favorites." I let out the air, struck to breathe, and my smile danced between happy memories of letting go.

"Do we have a girlfriend?" he asked with concern about my love life.

"No, we don't. We choose not to have one."

"Why?" he again questioned, as if this was not what he wanted.

"Because we grow out of the desperation to find love. You might not understand this, but you will soon get it as you grow up." I put my hand on his head and swish his hair a bit, as I am okay with his innocence.

"I will find better love than you." He turned down my hand. I know better than anyone how much we hate touching our hair.

"Did we make friends?" He whispered, I know being alone makes you want to have friends. I am happy he asked.

"Yup, some pretty awesome people came into our lives," all those people who became my family, those who taught me what the true essence of friendship looks like. Those who loved every version of me Those rare people flashed before me. some of the greatest people I came across, and I am happy to have them all.

"Do we still go for walks alone, daydreaming?"

"Ya, some habits never change." We both passed each other a smile through our eyes.

After pondering for a while, he quietly asked me, "Is dad proud of us? Do people love us?"

I took a deep breath. "I don't think so, but they all will come around. We have stopped worrying about others. We have made peace with a lot of things."

"Are we happy now?"

"No, but we are at peace. It's like we understood that happiness is now not getting your favorite things or completing a book; there is a lot more than that. It's like finding a different chocolate every day; sometimes they are sweet, sometimes they are bitter, sometimes they make you puke, and other times they just melt inside you." He smiled as if he understood everything I said. He was happy that I had made peace with not wanting everything.

"Do you miss the things you lost along the way?" He questioned me, looking straight into my soul.

"Yes, mostly you. I wish I could say this to you."

"What?" he whispered gently, afraid of what I was going to say to him.

I took a deep breath before replying, "I love you, and I am proud of you. Don't worry; you will turn out to be a fine individual. You are caring and empathetic; you care about people. Sometimes people make you feel unwanted and bad about being you. But you will learn to accept all your faults and be proud of what you have achieved. You will meet some amazing people; some you will lose, and some you will keep. You will see your friends cry, and you will cry. You will experience things that will break you completely, but you will still withstand them. You will be fine; don't worry. Be proud of who you are."

"Why are you crying?" I touched my cheeks to find out the tears were pouring out; I didn't realize when that happened. I wasn't aware of myself at the moment. But I let them go. I could feel strange comfort in the warmth of my tears. I hugged him tightly.

"I am sorry; I didn't do the things I told you I would do; I was a jerk to many people, and I was too good to some. I hurt some and got hurt by a few. I am sorry; I couldn't be honest all the time, as I told you I would be. I am sorry for turning out to be someone you are not proud of; I am not as intelligent as we were before. I score lowest in exams; we talk too much sometimes and sometimes get clingy. I am sorry because I changed so much that I couldn't recognize myself. I am sorry for turning out like the person you imagined yourself to be and never wanted to be like. I am sorry that because of me, you will have to go through so much. But I love you; I don't hate you for who you are now. I wish I could tell you that I always want to be like you. I am sorry, but I changed so much with life and took on so many responsibilities. I forgot to think about you. I will never forget you, but I lost you somewhere; trust me, you were the most beautiful memory I have."

My voice began cracking, and my heart was too heavy to hold me. There was relief, but I just didn't want to let go of him.

He patted and rubbed me gently on my back. I could feel his thin hands with long fingers.

"I love you too; I don't hate you. I am sorry you faced so much in life, but I am proud of how you handled it yourself. You are an amazing person. I wish to be like you. I am happy the way you turned out to be," he said, hugging me gently and resting himself on me.

"Thank you"

I was holding him before it faded in my memory somewhere, smiling and waving at me with white feathers all around. He looked so beautiful and angelic. All I did was wave and smile back.