Love Is...

42. Us

CHAPTER – 42

LOVE IS... US

'Come sleep with me. We won't make love; love will make us.' – Julio Cortzar

My fingers hovered over the keyboard of my laptop as I stared aimlessly at the word screen. The cursor blinked back every second, telling me that it was waiting for me to start writing, to give words to my thoughts so I could send this article to Priscilla at the earliest. But if I started giving words to my thoughts, then it would end up being an article of sheer display of my vulnerable feelings; feelings that had been playing havoc with my life since last three days.

It had been three long days since I had been living in an emotional turmoil of nervousness, anticipation, waiting, patience, and longing. Three days, which were a jumbled mess of my ever so contradicting emotions. There was a moment when I regretted telling everything to Ashton three days back, thinking that it would have been better if we could have probably just stayed as friends so I could at least stay in touch with him. Then there came the moment when I scolded myself for being weak, and reminded myself that there was absolutely nothing wrong with my confession.

There were moments when my eyes stayed fixed on my parents' home main door, waiting for Ashton to barge inside and tell me that he loved me too. And then there were moments when I laughed at myself for daydreaming and living in my own cooked up world.

There were times when I stayed with my parents in the living room downstairs, talking like old times, but my thoughts swayed breezily to Ashton and the many moments we had spent in those twenty days together, making me angry for being distracted when I was here to spend time with my family. And then there were times, when I stayed in my room, laid in my bed and thought about his smile, his eyes, his words, his unexpected caring attitude, and his kisses with a smile on my face.

Then there were times like these when I was supposed to work, but couldn't come up with anything to write as my mind was preoccupied with Ashton.

However, in the last three days there was not a single moment when he was not ruling my mind and heart.

A loud knock on my bedroom door brought me back from my thoughts and I jerked my head to look at Mom as she entered my room. "Busy?" she asked with a smile on her face.

I shook my head and asked her, "How is Dad now?"

"He is fine. Just gave him his medicines and came to see you." She sighed as she sat down on the bed beside me. "I'm just glad that it wasn't a stroke."

"I know." I smiled a little. That fateful night when Mom had called me to tell me that Dad was in hospital, I had not taken much time to reach back home, not considering the time I spent at Ashton's doorsteps, baring my heart in front of him. The reports came by the next morning, and much to our relief, Dad hadn't had a stroke. It was just gas!

"I don't think I had ever been happier about someone having a gas problem than I was at that time." I commented, making Mom laugh. "He needs to take care of his diet. And please make sure that he goes on regular walks," I told her the same thing that the Doctors had told us on that day, and we had been reminding Dad since last three days, much to his irritation.

She chuckled slightly, but the smile from her face faded away as she confessed, "I was scared."

My smile faltered as well as I recalled the dreadful feeling that had reached the core of my heart when I had heard that he had a chest pain, the tremble of my hands when I was mindlessly packing to come back home to my parents, the tears that had without any inhibitions rolled down my face during the ride back home, and her scared face when I saw her sitting alone in the hospital waiting for the doctors to tell her that Dad was fine. "Me too, Mom."