She said she wanted to meet me as she had something to confess. I never had the courage to tell her the truth. I was slightly happy and largely nervous to meet her. Little did I know that all my dreams, all my hopes and all my imaginary plans that I had built would be washed away in a single ruthless blow.
I write my stories like a sculptor, with bits and pieces. Bits of real life incidents I’ve experienced or personally heard from someone and pieces of my individual thoughts with an underlying message. I try to visualize the whole story, with my creative mind and pen it down, in a narrative form, for the convenience of beautiful souls that would like to live in the world of words I create.
A walk on the beach to us was a monthly ritual. To escape life, to breath in some fresh air. She was the soulful speaker and I was the attentive audience, like always. No matter what stupid things she spoke, my ears always paid attention as long as the waves kept hitting the shore. “Do you know what I cherish the most?”, she was prepared to answer her own question.
“Little things. An unexpected hand written note from an old friend, the beep of a text message from a special one, a hearty laugh watching a sitcom alone, the smell of a favourite home cooked dish by mom, the realization of a tiny hint of a crush on someone. Just three words, ‘amount is credited.’ Enough to join the collection of little things. The noise and chaos of my life have drowned the little things in a life filled with hustle and bustle that I’ve no control over.”
“It’s these tiny little things that make us whole. Moments and memories that we will treasure forever. Little precious things, in the life we live and the life we will leave behind.”, I smiled at her words as I acknowledged what she said. I wasn’t sure if this was the most interesting person that she could ever be, but I liked her and that must have counted for something.
“Do you know what I fear the most?”, she was prepared for the next one. “Darkness. Not the absence of light but the soul stirring fear of not being accepted by people that you care for.” I wondered if she was a fool to think that way, considering how lovely and pretty she was. “I think you are one of those people who will accept me for who I’m.” The sweet melody of those words danced through the air, the sand, my heart.
“It’s funny how not even in our darkest of moments, we reach out to hope, instead, we cling on to darkness. I’ve been walking through darkness and I thought you could show me the ray of light and make me believe in myself again. Make me believe amidst the turbulence in my life that I’m okay, this is okay, everything is okay. I hope you can make me believe that my darkness is an illusion.”
Her palms clasped around my upper arm as we kept walking. I thought I was prepared to hear her words, until I wasn’t. I picked up the courage to tell her those three words and I finally uttered, “I think..”. She broke my flow and interrupted saying, “I like someone and.. ‘She’ likes me too.” She paused to see my reaction. I became numb and for a moment, my mind went blank.
She was someone who I thought I knew everything about, someone who I had developed feelings for, over time and yet there she was, a completely different person from who I believed her to be. I respected her for who she was but I felt strange. She continued, “To be accepted for who you’re, irrespective of your choices, your flaws and your lifestyle, is the greatest feeling ever. I am afraid if I will ever be accepted and the fear of hiding myself in broad day light is my darkness.”
“I don’t know how will my parents react. I realized I need to finally let go of my fear and that’s why I’m hoping you could be my shadow of hope.”, she said as she looked into my eyes. I wanted to look into her eyes to share my feelings and yet there I was, unable to react.
There was absolute silence. A silence filled silence. And a tear filled silence, except the sound of waves. The silence brushed against our faces as we sat on the sand. A softness had settled in the air, gently caressing us, as the waves touched our feet, only to run back again.
The times when we are quiet the most, are the times when we have the most to say.
Maybe always, but then again, maybe not always.
She wanted me to be the keeper of her secret, the protector of her belief and the well-wisher of her life. I had known her for a little over five years but it was on that day, I realized, I only knew her on the outside. The fact that I could never have her in my life as per my dreams was less heart breaking compared to the realization that I had no clue about who she was on the inside.
In a heartbeat I was there for her again, offering her an escape. I picked her hand and held it close to my chest. I hugged her tight as I picked up a needle and thread, to stitch and mend our connection, in my mind. A connection to make her believe that her darkness was indeed an illusion.
ImageCredits – 7te
Content Credits – Anonymous friend