Another Story Of Tired Love

Her eyes were full of stories, stormy stories, and looking at her eyes I was scared. Then she smiled, smiled with an earth full of sun-rays, and her crooked teeth sung "sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy". She doesn't have any beauty spot in her body, I wasn't even looking for any but then I realized she was a little brook, full of lotus. I could endlessly gaze at her and her lotus aura could feel that innate smell of her lotus-like soul every time she fell asleep in the morning or after the alone lazy summer noon. I missed her mostly in the afternoons when I often boarded a train to come home, I could possibly leave all my work to see her every day in the afternoon while she slept holding one of her favorite flower printed cushions.

But, love for her couldn't go further because we were tired of the aftermath of this long journey we ran every day. The days were tiring, the sky were dusty, roads; alleys were abandoned. It was like a slow poison, the love became stagnant, it didn't board the train anymore, it stopped waiting.

Then I fell asleep and in my dream I saw someone stealing that innate smell of her lotus-like soul, I couldn't do anything but to see how our loving balcony attached bedroom became a palace of cards and it started falling. Our love was trembling in pain so did we. It was easy to left all the pains and part, so she told me that the world I was lived in was indeed a loving world but imaginary. I was vulnerable, believing her was not that hard and I did believe her. In a moment she too flew like she was ready to go. Only my efforts could hold her, whatsoever in my thoughts or in my so-called imaginary world but I was so tired I couldn't put any efforts to hold her in my arms and say that "we can survive any bad dreams". In the end, she left, that was the only harsh truth I can remember. I couldn't utter a word. Finding the culprit who stole our love in dreams would be appropriate, but knowing she would never return, I preferred to stay loveless with the memories, guilt, and questions.