100 facets of love....

Memories

"     I was sitting there, doing what I had never thought I would do. Sitting on the floor, by the fire place, I was reading my diary. And now, when I remember it, even though I am not reading it at the moment, I can feel it. I can feel it in the depth of my soul. With each contraction of my heart, I can feel the exact emotion surging through my whole body and breaking through my skin in goose bumps. It's all over. He is gone. But the moments we spent together stay, trapped in my brain as memory and in the pages of my diary as words. And at times when my eyes are focused in a much unfocused manner on the horizon or the wall, all those memories come back. Like flashes and collage, every memory jumbled up, fighting to be on the forefront of my mind.

I don't know how people forget. I really have no idea how to fill this gaping hole in my heart. I can't even do a single thing without seeing him in it. I stopped listening to the songs I loved, because he loved them too. I can't even eat my favorite chocolate without remembering all those time we made a mess while eating them. I can't watch movies because every emotion portrayed there, resonates within me. And as I turn the pages of the diary, going through dozens of memories, I don't know how I am going to move on.

I wonder what all those moments were about, as I tore pages after pages from the diary...The hugs and the kisses. Those wiping my tears away and making me feel safe. Those sweet words telling me how much he loved me and making me believe I was beautiful. Why did he force me to break down my walls, and then break my heart? Why did he come if he never meant to stay? Why did he want me to wait for him when he wasn't even sure if he would ever love me?

May be, personal issues can be that persuasive. I will never figure it out. And now when I think of it that way, I feel guilty. I feel guilty for saying those harsh words to him. It still echoes in my ears as the letter from my diary dances in my eyes. If I am not worth taking the risk, then I guess you aren't worth the wait. Was I a little too hard on him? Well, another thing I can never figure out.

And as the fire engulfed the last page of the diary, turning it into ash, I understood the real conflict of my heart. I wanted to know, I still do. I wish he would tell me the truth. I wish I knew, if it wasn't in him to love me or it wasn't in me to be loved my him.

Now, burning that diary seems to be a stupid move. Because, even though the dozens of memories in the diaries were burnt, there are hundred others locked in my thoughts. And I will forever be haunted by them "

In the pages of the book, she had poured her heart out. Wondering if she will ever be able to tell someone that these lines were her own emotions, and the protagonist was she. And even if she did, will anyone ever love someone as broken as her.

Little did she knew, that miles away, someone sat beside the window reading those lines late into the night. He wondered if such pure emotions really exist. And with every word, he fell a little for the protagonist and he fell a little more for her. Hoping fate would bring them together.....

---  Sophie