A Summer Love?

June 18, 2008 at 12:12 am | In Infatuation, Trauma | Leave a Comment
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It was the secrecy that aroused me. Somewhere in my heart (or in my heart’s mind), he lit a flame. It was a summer infatuation, puppy-love as they call it, and he never came to know. At least, I never told him off it, and I wouldn’t say he guessed. Simply because he never cared to… he did not care to read between the lines, understand the emotion. Or maybe he did, and chose to stay away?

But he never stayed away. He would always come back, every afternoon or evening. Was he teasing me? Mocking me? Torturing me?

It was always common talk, before the world. In seclusion, he never had time. I scarcely got to know him. He did not seem interested enough to get to know me. Why did he keep up the charade for as long as he did?

I close my eyes and I can picture him still. The spite is written on his face. A simpleton in appearance, but feline at heart. Possessive. Engulfing. Elusive.

Selfish. Spiteful. Soul-less.

Weeks have passed. I buried him, but he still keeps trying to come out, one single hand reaching out to daylight, sensing it, relishing yet disregarding that he resides on my soil. I push him deeper inside, but my heart’s mind wants to pull him out.

Suneet, you are one of the few I wish I had never met. You shall never be with me, yet I feel we have so much in common. I have buried many, but few have been harder than burying you. But you lie happy in those depths, not wishing to surface…not for your own self; and certainly not for my happiness.

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