The Beginning of the End
"If someday I had to be gone; would I like myself be a part of history? I always thought the beautification of mortality lies in it's fragility. But do we actually die? "
Her eyes lit up in the dark as she spoke.He picked his half smoked cigarette and puffed a long breathe; looked at the small figure lying beneth his arm in the dark.The weight of her small skull was bearable but sometimes her rambles were not,but he answered anyway, looking above;
"No, somehow we are cherished, loathed and ignored even after our last breathe. Like in a cold winter day,a small dew of reminder. Like in fallen autumn, when the last leaf fall."
She leaned closer as if closeness would let her absorb the words better; she flicked her toes, a subtle movement she always does when she thinks.Her breathing is now a bit ragged as she replied,
"It always seems we are sewn to strings of memories,with people,with places,with things,what if they end too? Does my existence extinct with them?"
He looked at her made-up figure in the dark.He knew it's the lack of sleep,that's making her think of all the hypothesis. He removed his arm and rolled over to his tiny space, it's seems hard to talk for him when she listened so intently. His voice spoke softly,
"I don't think so.We are fuelled with negativity yet it is the positivity we seek for.We look at the dying sun, and find it picturesque; we look at the struggled rising of sun and search for hope.Its a pattern in general.To seek something forbidden, there is the underlying pleasure of human existance. Extinction of human is not. There are people who dug graves to look for deaths.Maybe due to some weird mojo someone will dug out our bones to prove a timeline, an extinct culture or just existance in general.Who knows?"
His burnt down cigarette is piping the environment with a burnt and smokey odour. She hates it; yet never raised a question why puff something which smelt like burnt corpse. It masculated him she realizes, which is why she shifted her body to her corner. Her curious gaze stare intently at the back of the man she loves, her lips parted as she spoke in despair,
"We seek for depth; we seek for the ocean's deepest secret; but that place is dark,mystified; yet filled with curiosity. But do we realize the depth is not always the answer."
He shifts his back to be more comfortable. He concludes it's not the size anymore that's make this space a confinement.Its her. Her curious nature. Her voice became hoarse but she couldn't stop talking,
"Maybe the width of life should be a matter to get glimpses. Maybe the wider your vision gets; the more you see and it's not always the hidden things we should look forward to. Not a lengthy or meaningful life. But a life full of significant validation from the ones you love."
She breathes heavily. Her voice cracked as she closes her eyes and try to catch sleep that's almost lost from her eyes. She wants to steal more time. A little more time till the gift of present swing away from her. She wished he would at least face her but even she knows goodbye was never easy for him. His silence was all the answer, but today she needed more than silence, she needed to listen. She pushed her head back to the pillow and continued,
"I never understood why you got short sighted and fell in love with me at our first sight. You should have think and taken your time. You would not be struck in this bed if you had done it."
Tears welled up in his eyes. Her words more felt like a guilt that regret. He leaned over to the packet of cigarettes and opened the box to get one and lit it immediately with the lighter. The sprint of light from the tail of his cigarette intensified the darkness that enveloped between them. His voice a bit cracked as he replied,
"I am not the only one in this bed. You are here too. Stubborn to stick around me for validation when it is evident yet you forsee it. Your concern to view it through wider lens, but doesn't your lens cover the beauty of your naked eyes?"
She stifles a laugh. They were the same page of a book but just not the same side. If she called it determinant, he termed it stubborn, if she called it fate, he named it folly. It's always the other side and somehow that made sense always.
"Look at me. Please."
He couldn't. He wouldn't. Yet he rolled back puffing the cigarette quickly. If only this thing could kill like it said, he would have been the most grateful man in the world. He looked at back at the shrinked figure which curled up in a corner. Distant and indifferent. The bridge collapsed and he knew he had to speak before it's too late for her to hear,
"I remember you darling. The first time I saw. You were like a poetry. Confusing, unrelatable, misunderstood, beautiful,and dainty. I was afraid if I figured your meaning, I would have the secrets of all my feelings erupting from me like a volcano. Though I knew right away you will be the reason my earth shake beneath my feet, I let myself be the epicenter of it. I thought I will always make it to the other side, you know. You always lifted me and put me to places. Beautiful and lonely places. But I couldn't stop following you. "
She closed her eyes as if it was yesterday. The memory she relish, and will forever cherish as her happy moments and finally she was ready for sleep. A deep slumber she knew she had to take and he knew it was about time she had it.
He leaned forward, he knew she hated the foul smell of cigarettes but that is his odour, he want her to remember that even at the other side. He kissed the crown of her forehead as his last kiss and left the bed with the half smoked cigarette in his hand.
The air was still, it's like one wrong direction and a strom will blow. He tried to finish his cigarette with his shaky hand, as tears rolled down his cheeks. His earth shook again but this time it felt it indulge him instead of lifting him.
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