CHAMBER OF MEMORIES

The Virago's Inamorato

It's been so long since the last time I updated. Too much presentation to be done and assignments. Medical school took all my social and yup definitely my private life. But yeay! I guess today I'm a bit free. So why don't I put on some thinking and start typing......

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I knocked on her door thrice and rushed to her front lawn. I picked up my six-string, put the strap over my shoulder and started strumming. Her house was dark except for her room which was on the first floor so I guessed that she must be home. I started singing the song that took me three sleepless nights to write for her.

"Oh my love,
I am your secret
But I want the world to know
How when you're lonely
I'll be there
And you'll be lonely no more oh. "

That was for Nathalya. You should know that she was lovely, just lovely. She had golden brown hair that reminded me of honey and toast. Her lips were two splits of the most perfect flower petal and her teeth shimmered like stars. Her eyes -oh her eyes- burned bright fire in the open sky. But like may other lovely things, a second glance could rid all the beauty.

At that moment, those burning eyes were coming toward me rapidly. Nathalya marched to me in her nightgown, her feet stomping hard against the dew covered glass. She cupped her hand over my mouth, "shut up," she said. Yes, her eyes were definitely burning. I went on strumming and she pushed my hand away.

"I said, stop!"

She pulled my guitar and dropped it onto the ground. My heart stopped as I heard it thump. It was fine, really. Or at least, I like to think that it was fine.
She pulled me into her living room and I sat in front of the crackling fire -alone. I stared at the bright flame when she crept up behind me. I didn't turn around to look at her, I didn't want to turn around but I heard her taking a seat.

Nathalya's rage made my heart cringe and left me to sit there near the luminous flame. Or was it my own rage that was prickling on my face and the fact that I knew that the anger couldn't be detained if I turned around?
"Never do that again, " her sharp voice cut through the quietness.
"Why not? " I still didn't look at her.
"Because I hate it, "
But that song took me sleepless nights. I stood still before I felt her arms wrap around me from behind. She rested her head on the curve of my shoulder, breathing in my scent before she started kissing my neck.
"Keep your heart to yourself," she said between kisses, "I don't want it."

I turned to face her, she looked at me blankly. I mean, beautifully. "Okay," I said. She stood up and pulled my hand to her bedroom. She pushed the bedroom door and smiled. She pulled me onto her bed, onto her and drew the duvet over our heads. The warmth of our skin against each other was all we needed to make it through the night.

I expected to wake up that morning by Nathalya but all I woke up by was a mountain of white sheets. I pushed away the covers, hoping to find her petite self under the fluffy pile but her side of the bed was empty.

I put on my jeans and walked to the kitchen. Nathalya was sitting at the table with a mug in her hand. I rested my body against the wall, we stayed silent for a while.
"I'm going to leave and you can lock up and leave the keys, " she said, as she got up and passed by me. I turned around, caught her hand and pulled her in. She pushed me away, "No." she said. I let her go.

I spent many nights with her, but at the same time, it felt as if those nights were without her. She would kiss me but would not let me kiss her. If I were to touch her, she had to touch me first. The night we spent were empty nights to Nathalya and by day light, we'd be on our own. But most of all, I wasn't allowed to fall for her.
"Why? " I once asked during one of my nights with Nathalya.
"Why what?" she pretended to not understand.
"Why can't I fall for you? "
She turned her back at me and said, "It wouldn't be pleasant, loving me." I drew in closer but she shifted away. "And love is not what I seek," she said. I didn't understand but I like Nathalya, I pretended otherwise.

Nathalya never let me call her. Not when I want to tell her about my day, especially not when I saw flowers that reminded me of her, and definitely not when I felt like I long to be next to her, and absolutely not when I felt lonely, not ever.
After all, whether I was next to her or not, loneliness wasn't a feeling I could decide to stop.

She wanted us to be that way- for me to be existent only when her night were getting too cold. I was like a Christmas sweater from grandma- comfortable, but definitely not something you'd wear in public.
She didn't want anything more that the heat of our romance. And it was something that I had to get myself used to. She wanted me to make love but not to love.

I was getting fatigued. I need not to stay with someone who rejected my every act of sentiment.
I left Nathalya.
I told myself that Nathalya was going to miss me despite the fact that her face showed nothing when I told her my decision.

Who was I kidding? Nathalya didn't care if I left- I needed her more than she needed me. Her rejection made me feel -no, her rejection made me know- that at least I was still trying. Something in me was still working fine. Because loneliness leaves a person hollow and Nathalya gave me satisfaction. And the fact that I wanted that satisfaction made me feel....

Normal.

And it's been a long time since I felt normal. Maybe Nathalya was born hollow. She was born lovely but not to love. But after weeks without Nathalya, she called.
"Come over, " her sweet voice tickled my ear over the phone. "And you can bring your guitar."