The raindrops were pelting heavily, drenching his favourite leather jacket, a gift from her on his recent birthday. The wind was howling wildly as if a pack of wolves were making their presence felt, in that moonlit night. He was walking away, leaving her staring at his tall, broad-shouldered physique slowly receding into a mere silhouette. His heart flinched, his insides churned insanely. With every step he was braving off the insuperable urge to turn and face her. To walk back to her. To pull her into a long yet soft kiss. To let her rest her head on his chest and make her feel safe. He was desperately trying to blink away the tears welling up in his eyes. He recalled his father telling him something, when this guy, then an eight-year old, wounded his arm while playing cricket.
“No Son! Real men don’t cry. They’re tough on the outside and strong inside.”
But just then the dam broke loose and tears trickled down, mingling with the raindrops. ‘This wound is too deep, Dad! It’s my heart this time. Forgive me!’
“Tough or simple, pleasant or bitter, rough or smooth, she’ll be the same. I just cannot live without her. . . OR. . . with her.”
All this while, she just stood still. Watching him slowly drift away from her, literally and figuratively. She closed her eyes, the last ten minutes flashed back. She had wrapped her arms around him, comforted by his scent and tormented it was the last time she’d smell him. She had tried stopping him, moving his thought, but in vain. She came across many who loved her smile, but he… he loved her scars as much. Torn apart by her intellect which said he’s gone forever, that he won’t ever return, and her lover instinct that told her he will definitely come back, she preferred the latter. ‘Cause that pacified her wild heart. Somewhere deep in her heart, she knew he’ll realise his fault. She knew he won’t be able to stay away from her for long. She knew what he saw moments back was a mask, behind which the person who loved her the most, still thrived. She knew he was just hers.
“Our meeting was like meeting of two chemical substances. The reaction had taken place. We both are transformed. I know, you too have.”
She seemed to know everything. She was a complete source of positivity. But that did not make her tread onto the illogical path. A deep, dark dungeon of her heart had a fierce monster captured.
‘You have loved him too much NOT to feel any hatred for him.’
He’s gone too far.
Almost out of her sight.
She’s standing still.
The downpour’s terrible.