Unfathomable Love

(Read the prequel here: Inscrutable Love)

“I’m on my way to pick you up. See you soon! :)”

Received at 19:01

I read the text message feeling both excited and dreadful. The last month or two had passed in absolute darkness between us. We had not met, as he was touring, and I did not even try as much as to call him during this time. It is said that absence makes the heart grow fonder; it was the exact opposite in our case. While I wanted to become sure about my feelings towards him during this hiatus, I was hoping that our bond will grow stronger by the end of it. I was hopeful that the distance and silence would strengthen the threads of love that were slowly binding me with him. Such was not the case.

His words were the sole reason I felt attracted towards him. Once those stopped to flow, I had nothing else to hold on to him. Every day of silence, was making me drift further away from him, and after a few days I was already too far away to even reminisce about him unconsciously. The vacuum that the absence of his words had created in my heart was soon filled by the charcoal smothered fingers of an artist. I first met the sketch artist at an exhibition, and soon again at my friend’s party, and then at the City Square, and so on. But I did not want the night to be about me or my new interests in life.

He had picked the perfect place to meet after such a long time. We were to have dinner at my favourite restaurant. The night was to be about him, about his tour, his experiences in the foreign land, about the people he had met. I did not want him to feel that things had changed. For all I knew, the sketch artist might just be another traveler you meet in this journey of life, who does not contribute anything meaningful or lasting to our journey.

I chose a blue coloured dress and white stilettoes; I left my hair open; and wore minimal make-up. I was ready in less than fifteen minutes and decided to walk down and wait at the lobby. I was playing the evening in my head the way I wanted it to go. We would walk in the restaurant, holding hands, chuckling at his witty humour and looking deep into his starry eyes. He would narrate all his stories and I would simply float in his soothing river of words. I saw the white lights of his sedan as he pulled up in the driveway. I started walking towards the car when he got off to open the door for me. He was looking ravishing in a black jacket over a pair of blue denims and a white shirt. He had a perfectly trimmed beard and was wearing very woody cologne. I could not resist the urge to kiss him this time, and I gave him a small peck on the cheek.

As we sat down on our tables, the corner one which overlooked the city, I realised how comfortable he made me feel. I was not pretending to be someone I was not in front of him, because I was always lost in his words, too disoriented to even think about how to impress him. As we placed our orders, he presented me a small, gift-wrapped, box. It was one of the most beautiful looking diamond pendants I had ever seen. I was too excited to accept it gracefully. I hurriedly put it back in the same box and handed it to him. I looked in his eyes and saw the love it contained for me. I felt ashamed and embarrassed to have tried to replace his love with someone else’s attention and affection. The honesty in his eyes, which confessed his love so effortlessly, left me feeling belittled.

I decided to tell him everything about the new guy I had met and make him understand how stupid and little I was feeling now. He was visibly hurt at my acceptance of trying to replace him in my life. He went absolutely quiet and I kept giving explanations. After a point of time, he wasn’t even listening to me; he was lost somewhere, comparing the evening to what he had expected it to be. I do not know if he was able to understand how much I loved him. I could not spell out the words clearly; I was too ashamed to express myself after being with someone else for a month. We ate the last of our food in silence; his eyes showing hurt and mine showing embarrassment. 


(Read the sequel here: Abstruse Love)