She walked into the room with the elegance of a doe. Slowly, navigating through the crowd, she took carefully calculated steps. I fumbled with my fingers and glued my eyes to the floor. Meeting her was never easy, especially when she was dressed in her best.
I didn’t look up till the time she came beside me and reached out to say hi. With a dumbstruck look of awe, I wished her back and shook her hand. Those few seconds that her fingertips brushed against mine, I relived a million times when I’d taken her touch for granted. Something inside me squirmed and cursed me for what I’d done to her.
She loved being around people. I wasn’t too sure if I deserved a seat at this table anymore. But then again, who else deserved a seat here more than me?
She waltzed through the crowd, gathering gazes at her peach colored dress and bright face. I walked in her wake, wishing that this day may never end. She turned back, summoned me to walk beside her to meet the bride. I quietly agreed. These were a few moments of solitude that I would not want to miss out for anything in the world.
She returned to the table to sit with the others. I stood around, nervously gazing at her every now and then. I hadn’t seen her for a couple of months now and she looked stunning today. She was beautiful. She didn’t believe that because her cousin told her so, but I had expressed my disagreement over her cousin’s statement the first time I heard her say that. And that belief grew stronger over time. She was beautiful. Her eyes glimmered every time she smiled. She’d roll her head slightly back and reach out to give you a high-five every time she burst into laughter. Her nostrils would flare up a tiny bit every time she’d get angry. Her eyes would moisten up every time she felt pain, but she’ll be quick enough to wipe it off with the edge of her sleeve. She was beautiful. And I loved her, regardless of what she thought about herself.
She was hungry, but not enough to get a plate for herself. She insisted on eating out of a friend’s plate. There was a time when that plate would’ve been mine, but not anymore. She wouldn’t even sit next to me today. Perhaps, I’d pushed her too far away to expect her to be around me. Perhaps.
We walked her to the car. She promised she’ll meet before she left in the evening. We waved goodbyes and went home. She reached the train station an hour before her train was scheduled to depart. We reached two minutes before ours. She said she’ll come meet us, but the train departed even before she could climb the stairs to the other platform.
There were no promises made that night of meeting again soon. For we both knew in our hearts that we had come a long way from making and keeping promises. She’ll be married in the coming few months and I’ll probably lose my one real true love that I’d ever had. But the blame’s not on her. She was always the more loving and caring one. I, on the other hand, was the reckless, insensitive fool. She’d had enough of troubles with me by her side and perhaps this was to be the turn of the tide for her. Perhaps her ‘happily ever after’ story begins with my exit from the scene.
But, to an emotionally twisted person like me, there’s no way I’ll ever let her off the hook completely. In my years to come, I’ll always remember her for the times she gave me strength when I had lost hope, for all the times she helped me get up when I’d hit rock bottom. Apart from a distant dream of being around her, words are all I have. And in my words, I’ll never let her go away. She’ll forever be my undying muse, till death does us apart.