Mi tesoro
I still remember the day I met her. Her hair blew in the gentle spring wind, her eyes dazzled in the soft sunlight, her lips soft and glossy. She wore a simple outfit that day and yet managed to look as stunning as a celebrity. I asked her name, but now that I think of it, my memories are blurred as though it was a dream, her words nonetheless in my mind.
Living in the woods, near a cliff of a tiny hill in a small part of the world, I really didn’t keep connections with the outside world. In a tiny cottage, with the “perfect” part time job, I was content.
I seriously had no intention of getting out of that place. My routine was really straightforward. Wake up, wash my face, do chores which didn’t consist of more than dusting around and doing laundry, go to my job, come back and sleep again. Of course in between I’d occasionally pop in some snacks or something edible in my mouth and live on it.
At this point you must be wondering that this person is seriously depressed but trust me y’all, I was happy. Truly. But little did I know that my little content life would one day turn upside down.
It was my day off. Sunday. I was hanging out the laundry to dry in the rays. I was just heading back when I saw her. The girl that wasn’t meant to be here but was there. Probably for me.
I looked at her for some time. She looked pretty, no, she looked beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Her clothes seemed nothing like the ones we have in this generation. But leaving that behind, she seemed pleasantly sophisticated.
She approached me and suddenly with not much thought said, “I have no home.”
I thought to myself, “well then, what do you want me to do?”
Aloud I answered, “Are you lost?”, which sounded stupid considering the fact she just said she didn’t have any home.
She replied saying, “Can I stay with you? I can help you in the house work and I don’t even eat much, just one-fourth of a plate.”
I just stood there. Silent. Staring. Inside I crossed levels of confusion. I had a million questions. Who is she? Why is she here? Why the hell did she suddenly say that she wanted to stay with me? Am I qualified enough to look after two people?
So I calmly, unlike my mind, replied, “Oh, okay.” Yeah right, as though it was really okay. Ughh, Why the hell did I say that?
But she seemed happy about it so I guess it was okay, because from my side, I was a loner to be honest. Having no one, I thought maybe I’m too dull for this world. She seemed like a cheerful company to be with.
So just like that I got a friend. A friend who promised to look after the house, where I promised I would look after the money.
Seems like a beautiful picture doesn’t it? Only on the surface that is.
Our days went on just fine. My routine stayed the same but the only thing that was different was that this time whenever I entered home after my job, I had someone waiting for me with a healthy meal prepared.
I assumed that she was the same age as me. But she looked more mature than me, and acted the same way. Since birth, I’ve been very clumsy. It’s like a ritual to get hurt or injured at least once every day. In contrast to that, she was my aid. And not to mention that she really stuck to her promise. She kept the house spick and span, and kept everything in order.
Often, we would go out to eat at a cheap restaurant or cafe when we both became tired of eating home food constantly.
I had obviously asked her plenty of times what her name was but every time she’d shrug it off or find a way to change the subject. Nevertheless, we worked out somehow.
Every night, I’d keep overthinking who this mysterious girl was. At times I’d think rather half witted thoughts as though she came from a different country after being drugged by a mafia group. Sounds stupid, I know. It is.
Christmas was around the corner. I didn’t have any such plans apart from sitting home and enjoying my days off. But my “roommate” was somewhat excited. For nearly a week, every morning she kept talking about Christmas shopping, the tall pine trees, the brightly coloured decorations, the crisp cold winds, and not to mention the wrapped gifts. She seemed to look forward to them, in particular. She had reasoned that her love language was gift giving.
In the end, I gave in. I had no reason not to. So, on a chilly Saturday morning, we went shopping. The girl had made a list of things that she wanted to buy.
We went to shops and bought the items she wanted. For the Christmas tree, we both came to a final conclusion that we didn’t really need a huge one as we already had trees surrounding the house. We bought a medium sized one.
We returned home and she started unpacking her bags and took out the tree, intending to immediately start decorating it.
I stopped her saying, “Wait. There’s still a whole lot of time until Christmas.”
Her answer had taken me aback, “But, I’ve never celebrated Christmas at my place. I don’t know the feeling.”
I thought to myself, “What does she mean? Never celebrated Christmas? That just sounds…..awful.”
Nevertheless, I gave in. She continued to decorate the living space in her own imaginative way and I went to my room to read a book.
Christmas arrived.
She woke me up at about 5 in the morning, almost screaming with glee, “Wake up! It’s Christmas! You wouldn’t want to sleep in on such a beautiful day, would you?”
She didn’t sleep the whole night, and dedicated it to decorating my not-so-gorgeous living room.
The Christmas tree was gorgeously decorated with hanging ornaments and lights. On the kitchen table lay the fruit cakes that we had bought the day before. She had iced the top of them and made them look too delicious to even eat. I peeped out the window and saw overnight the trees were somewhat topped with snow.
It was chilly outside and she grabbed my old thick coat and rushed out to enjoy the snow that lay on the ground.
Looking at her, I smiled. I felt happy. Not because of the fact that it was Christmas or because she had made my dull home pretty now. No, it was because of her. I started thinking about the time when she met me and how things went about. Our actions were so out of order but in the end here we were. Content with what we had. Or maybe it was only me that thought so.
Within a blink of an eye, it was New Year’s Eve. We both went out to a restaurant to eat dinner and came back home at around 11, exhausted. It was 12 o'clock and we wished each other.
Two weeks flew by. Strangely enough, I started noticing something different. Not too much but sure enough. She started going out almost every afternoon and returned at night time, before 10. It was really weird.
I couldn’t hold in my curiosity so once asked her, when she returned one night, “Where do you go every day? Did you make a new friend?”
She replied briefly, “I just wanted some fresh air, that’s all” , giving me a smile which I would have thought was real, but was not. Having spent an entire year with her, I knew her expressions well.
My birthday was nearing.
In the entire year, if there’s one day I treasure the most, it’s my birthday. Every year, I patiently waited for this day to dawn upon me.
But my concern for her increased as the days neared my birthday.
It was the day before my birthday. Monday. I came back home and didn’t see her anywhere. The meal was wrapped in a transparent plastic wrapper and a sticky note on top saying- “Reheat it before eating” and a smiley face at the bottom.
A part of me started heavily breathing. Was I suffocating? I suppose so. It felt like something connected to me was tearing away. I felt lonely, for the first time. For the first time in probably many months.
I couldn’t eat. I rushed out again. I searched. I ran through the trees hoping I’d find her somewhere, playing with random pebbles or humming to a song. I ran back to the town hoping to find her looking at a shop with a transparent glass and admiring the beautiful dresses like she used to.
I searched for that girl everywhere. Was this how it would end? So abruptly? I couldn’t believe it.
I walked back home, crying. Crying for someone whom I had attached myself with so desperately. So emotionally. As though she were me.
I entered home with a surprise. Through my blurry vision, because I was crying, I saw her. I hugged her.
It felt magical. It was as if we bonded. I felt her skin rub on mine, so soft. Her words were so delicate as though it struck a music chord of my soul. Her hug felt like a dream.
She said, “What’s the matter? Why’re you crying? Where did you go?”
I couldn’t answer her. I was so overwhelmed.
She didn’t mind either way. She just kept hugging me. Her hug itself felt like home.
We stayed that way for about 10 minutes straight, without saying anything.
At last, I got a hold of myself. I rubbed the tears from my eyes which had now turned red from excessive crying.
I finally held her shoulders. They were thin and fragile as though it might break from the hardships of the outside world.
I said, “Where had you gone? Why did you leave me?”
She answered, “But I didn’t leave you. I’m right here. Right in front of you. With you……..I am you.”
To the last line, I lifted my head as a question, but before I could say anything she pushed her warm hands to my cheeks and put her forehead on mine.
“I’ll never leave you. I’m always here” , she said reassuringly.
That night was windy. The leaves rustled and the trees swayed to and fro as though they had gotten a new life. That night, we slept on the same bed. We talked for nearly two hours in the night and were exhausted after the entire day. Before sleeping, the last words I heard from her were : Happy Birthday. My heavy eyelids then shut.
Morning arrived. The soft sunlight rays pierced through my window. I could hear the chirping of the morning birds. My hand searched for her beside me but I couldn’t feel her any longer. I got up and rushed out of the room. She wasn’t there. I went out on the open field, she wasn’t there. Nowhere.
This time, I accepted it. What was I thinking?
As if a girl would actually stay with me forever. But her words rang in my ears, “…..I am you.”
I was still confused about what she meant.
I turned around, walking homeward. On the kitchen table, was a letter. A parched one as though it belonged to the medieval era. It was rolled and tied with a red ribbon.
I opened it and it said:
“It must be morning by the time you read this letter. Take this letter as a memory of mine in your journey of life. As I had told earlier, I am you. I’m just you, but from a different universe. Knowing you as me, this news is probably not that frightening. I was just tired of my world. It’s dull and boring and black. There’s always some kind of war going on. Last year I decided to run from home and spend time with the person I kept most dearest to my heart……myself.
Thank you for everything. Thank you for protecting me and providing me a home. Thank you for being my companion. Thank you for being you. I shall never forget you so let’s promise to keep each other close to our hearts.
Yours truly,
R……”
As I read, drops of tears fell. My hands shook. I couldn’t say anything. Words didn’t find their path out. I dropped myself on a chair and wept.
Beside the letter, there was a box. Wrapped. With a lovely small bow on top.
I opened it and found a pendant. I remembered how she had said that her love language was gift giving and softly smiled, thinking to myself that she even gave me a birthday gift.
It had a butterfly engraved in the front. I turned it around and it read :
Mi Tesoro
