The lass

The lass and the lad.

Because the lass was happy.

17.05.2018

It was just another day in the life of the lass. She was asked to visit her grandmom for reasons she was unaware of. She needed to be there, they said. Your grandma misses you. Be there for her, they said. The only reason this day would mean anything more than another day of awkward family encounters for the lass would be, the lad. Yes, there was a lad in her life. However, this time she could unapologetically say with all the love the universe had to offer that the lad was not B. He was not B. It was Raheem. The beautiful, wonderful Raheem. The lass was happy, for Raheem was the name she loved pronouncing. She liked it a lot. She would repeat it enough times for those around her to be concerned about her sanity.  I love the way it rolls off of my tongue, she thought. I love the way it makes me feel warm. She loved him. She wouldn't admit it at first because she was having enough battles in her life and for a staunch believer of the fact that memories create bonds, she surprised herself. She couldn't reason as to how with such less memories and even less live encounters, how she could fall for a lad. A lad who was not Bavesh. She denied the fact as she always did when it came to the matters of love but she failed to explain why she wouldn't let him go, why she would cling to Raheem and annoy him and why she had the fear of losing him when he wasn't hers in the first place. She didn't want to talk to him. She was scared. The lass who was once so fearless and unforgivingly open about her love for another lad, now hesitated. She was unsure of how this storm would leave her and if she would still be capable of standing on her feet, let alone fight like she did the last time. She simply wasn't ready for another heartbreak. Curtosy to her world, clouded with monsters emerging from her very thoughts and in a universe which was made of the cosmic nightmares, she couldn't sleep. She simply couldn't. She blamed it on the lad, the non-existent unfairness and the 'ruthless' belief systems of her close ones. She knew she wasn't enough but she prenteded to be. Oh boy did she pretend! She pretended for an eternity, she felt. She kept pretending to be enough, to be happy with how she felt about herself and showed to the world with that confident smirk of her's that she loved herself and was happy with who she had become. She pretended. Eventually, it all crumbled down to the one thing she craved for. She wanted to feel enough for someone. She was tired. Her cheeks hurt. She knew it wouldn't be long before she'd burst out, screaming and resorting to violence. But it just didn't come this time. She simply never raised her voice. Her roar was silenced. That was the moment she realised that she was not herself. She had changed. She no longer fought like the little lass from 5th grade would've. She was ashamed of this transformation. She was disgusted by how submissive she had become. She was a woman of character and stature, she believed. She wanted to set an example for the little girls, inspiring them to look straight at the demons ahead of them and march forward with a  sword and a shield, ready to pierce even the most heinous of beasts. The lass was once like that. She was that woman who people looked up to. She looked back to see her shadow vanishing and that's when she knew, her existence was waning, like the moon. She wondred how the lad could name her so perfectly: you are the moon, he said. And the lass thought, yeah... never enough. Either too much or too little. Just a few fleeting hours of the perfection (that now seemed to have become a mythical circumstance). She would laugh at the possibility of her being anywhere near perfect, let alone perfect.

It was winter until she met him that day. The lad was awaiting her presence at the cave that he found a few hours ago. He sent for her owing to his owl, asking her to reunite with him for an enchanting meet. The lass begun her sprint. She couldn't walk. She couldn't afford to let time slip away. She was elated. It had been a decade since they met. The lass loved the lad. And she couldn't help it. Even the unfamiliarity was non existent when he held her hand. She felt at peace. The lad looked happy. He was there and to her, that's all that mattered. She wouldn't let go of his fingers. They were ethereal. She wanted to tell him. She looked him in the eyes and she could see her smile. She was at peace. Happiness was an after effect for his touch and presence. The lass feared for him and while he was pointing at the sea, mesmerized by its glory. "Look at how the tides refuse to stop kissing the shores, always coming back" the lad stated admiring the scene. The lass whispered, "thank you" and closed her eyes, holding her breath. Let those eyes never stop shining and let that smile never falter. All the elements of the material world were being summoned while she held his hand tighter and prayed for the miracle of bonds. She was grateful for what they shared and never forgot to thank him. She believed that if there was any supreme entity that surpassed the most evolved of species, it would be the magical bubble that they called the earth, the very earth that they walked on and it's control over our very own species. She prayed for his path to be cleared of any thorns and stones and for there to be enough wind blowing for him to not sweat.  She prayed for him to find fish even in the shallowest of waters when he needed it. She prayed that for every breath she held, the lad gets another moment, another breath of life. She wanted to gift him everything she could because she was simply awestruck by his blinding beauty. She wanted to keep him happy, like she wanted all her precious treasures to be tended to. Except she had no authority over him and wasn't entitled to calling him hers, yet. She believed he deserved better and her heart broke every time the lad spoke about himself in the most self criticising way. She was aggressive, you see. So she resorted to threats. Threats of the thunders that her wrath would cause if she heard a single verbatim against the lad she loved, even if they were the very words of the lad. She regretted being dominant in these circumstances. She wished to tell him how much she loved every single trait that the lad would call a flaw. But her frustration got the better of her and that was when she started to worry....did I scold him too much? Was that super mean? Am I that bad of a person? Did I hurt him? Is he okay now? I bring woe to people around me, don't I? Is he better off without me?

She drowned in her endless thoughts thinking about all the petty things she does and how dark the night would be without the stars. She looked around in search of her guardian angels, the glowing masses of star dust that were the reason for her happiness. And there they were, expertly crafted and adorned on the lad as she took a closer look at those burning flairs of absolute perfection. She looked at them, she looked into Raheem's eyes. She got lost in the twinkle that his eyes held and as the lad begun to express his utmost dislike towards his eyes, the very givers of light for the lass'  universe, the lass could no longer stay ashore. She gracefully drowned and embraced the waters of the deep dark ocean as she pulled him close and tasted the softest of petals that were known to mankind. She knew she had to be gentle for precious things are not abundant, most often. At least not imperfect perfections such as his lips. She wouldn't let go. And they stuck. That was the moment she discovered the ultimatum of all the methods and mediums to stop time. The waters that she so gladly embraced for the first time where her escape. For a very good reason, she didn't let go and she was the happiest woman alive for her lad was generous enough to bestow love upon the mere lover of art, the lass who was in love with the art that was him. For she truly believed, beauty not appreciated is a sin.