Musing; He, She, Guy.
So he loved her?
Yes? No?
Well, he said he did, or does? Whatever. Whichever.
They walked into the electronics store. She was all smiles. He opened the door for her and held it while she walked in. yes, she noticed the looks, she felt like a princess. Felt envied. He held on to her hand as they walked through the store, looking at this and that, deliberating, deciding, making notes of later-to-be-bought items. They walked out with their purchase. She was still smiling like the canary that got the worm.
He seemed in a spectacular mood as he walked in. she had learnt to watch his mood before advancing. But, he swept her off her feet, in her imagination, when he began to call her soft sweet names. She wondered if he had won the lottery. Her look did not escape him, he pulled her close and tenderly touched her nose, dragging his finger down the right side of her face. That was when he told her he loved her. She believed him. She hugged him. She was in the kitchen when he arrived. She put in more effort into that cooking, adding a generous sprinkle of love. When she served him the tray, he still had a dimpled smile on his face. She smiled back, gracing him with her dimples too. She had always imagined their kids inheriting one dimple each from them both. Dimples should be passed on from generation to generation, something so mystically refreshing and enticing should have continuity.
He bellowed at her.
Asking what they could have to discuss together. She stammered, in an attempt to answer that question. Then she thought “why should I even dignify that with an answer?” So she silently walked away. She turned to her new best friend – her tab – which she had lovingly named, after her pain. The name summarized all she wanted. In a couple of hours, she stopped hearing his voice in her head. She moved on. Her message tone was making a marching beat tone. Beyond the screen of the tab, she had some, who put the smile back on her face. And the same screen hid from them what she so desperately wanted to shout out.
It was a celebration.
She felt all celebratory and wanted to share the special moment with him. In her head, there were many possible outcomes of this night. Each of those outcomes made her giggle like a young carefree little girl. She set out to put her plans in action. None of her outcomes was near where the reality. By the end of the night, she was in the emergency room. That night, he killed something in her. Yet, she kept giving it “one last push”. Till, she felt pushed off the edge.
Guy calls her from beyond the screen. His compliments brought back her hearty laughter and the sweet smiles. Every thought of him made her exhibit her whites. Then she caught herself. Should she be feeling this way? Should she be encouraging Guy’s attention? But he made her happy. But Guy distracted her from the pain he was giving her. She could no longer hug him, she could no longer talk with him. She could no longer laugh or share jokes with him. They were merely living together. She was not happy. She didn’t think he was happy. So why did she feel bad about Guy?
Why?
He had never raised his hand on her. But his words, his actions, his inactions, they beat her every day. She needed a way out. She just wanted to be happy. She just wanted to keep the line with Guy open, not for any ulterior motive, but she wanted to feel needed. She wanted to . . .
Her phone vibrated. She had silenced it. She could not really explain it, she wanted to talk to people, but she wanted the silence also. She picked it up and unlocked the phone. The bright yellow emoticon Guy sent lit her face up.
She smiled
Yes? No?
Well, he said he did, or does? Whatever. Whichever.
They walked into the electronics store. She was all smiles. He opened the door for her and held it while she walked in. yes, she noticed the looks, she felt like a princess. Felt envied. He held on to her hand as they walked through the store, looking at this and that, deliberating, deciding, making notes of later-to-be-bought items. They walked out with their purchase. She was still smiling like the canary that got the worm.
He seemed in a spectacular mood as he walked in. she had learnt to watch his mood before advancing. But, he swept her off her feet, in her imagination, when he began to call her soft sweet names. She wondered if he had won the lottery. Her look did not escape him, he pulled her close and tenderly touched her nose, dragging his finger down the right side of her face. That was when he told her he loved her. She believed him. She hugged him. She was in the kitchen when he arrived. She put in more effort into that cooking, adding a generous sprinkle of love. When she served him the tray, he still had a dimpled smile on his face. She smiled back, gracing him with her dimples too. She had always imagined their kids inheriting one dimple each from them both. Dimples should be passed on from generation to generation, something so mystically refreshing and enticing should have continuity.
He bellowed at her.
Asking what they could have to discuss together. She stammered, in an attempt to answer that question. Then she thought “why should I even dignify that with an answer?” So she silently walked away. She turned to her new best friend – her tab – which she had lovingly named, after her pain. The name summarized all she wanted. In a couple of hours, she stopped hearing his voice in her head. She moved on. Her message tone was making a marching beat tone. Beyond the screen of the tab, she had some, who put the smile back on her face. And the same screen hid from them what she so desperately wanted to shout out.
It was a celebration.
She felt all celebratory and wanted to share the special moment with him. In her head, there were many possible outcomes of this night. Each of those outcomes made her giggle like a young carefree little girl. She set out to put her plans in action. None of her outcomes was near where the reality. By the end of the night, she was in the emergency room. That night, he killed something in her. Yet, she kept giving it “one last push”. Till, she felt pushed off the edge.
Guy calls her from beyond the screen. His compliments brought back her hearty laughter and the sweet smiles. Every thought of him made her exhibit her whites. Then she caught herself. Should she be feeling this way? Should she be encouraging Guy’s attention? But he made her happy. But Guy distracted her from the pain he was giving her. She could no longer hug him, she could no longer talk with him. She could no longer laugh or share jokes with him. They were merely living together. She was not happy. She didn’t think he was happy. So why did she feel bad about Guy?
Why?
He had never raised his hand on her. But his words, his actions, his inactions, they beat her every day. She needed a way out. She just wanted to be happy. She just wanted to keep the line with Guy open, not for any ulterior motive, but she wanted to feel needed. She wanted to . . .
Her phone vibrated. She had silenced it. She could not really explain it, she wanted to talk to people, but she wanted the silence also. She picked it up and unlocked the phone. The bright yellow emoticon Guy sent lit her face up.
She smiled
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