Being nocturnal. Being me.

A fortnight had passed, when another man had me explore a pandora's box of paranormal emotions. He communicated with me in a language so abstract that no being could quite figure.  The language of lateral thought.  Where darkness is pleasurable, where the perception of an absent light is of serenity and absolute power. Where the laws of constructed thought is effectively defied. Where the nocturnal dwells, there I lived alone.I anticipated, for that night was nearing, when I would soon look into a pair of eyes that reflected the ethereal in mine.The knowledge I assumed from my anticipation was one of intimidation.Nevertheless, when he took those steps towards me, I must say he caught me pleasantly off guard. There I lay, all through the years of my unparallel living, anxious that when I m confronted by a man who shares the depth of my mind, I would no longer be indistinguishable, that I'd be left powerless in my world since it is no longer purely mine. I ve fantasized, not once but in a million fantasies that there would be one, who dared to unravel the complexity in each of my cells till my soul is denuded to him. But, ardent is my love for being the only one like me- misunderstood and incomprehensible by the regular being.There is pleasure in never being completely understood.There is power in being unpredictable. The intense passion for my solitude gave rise to the fear of being defined. Thus, the anxiety in being acquainted with yet another soul like mine.

He entered in the way I least expected- quick but rhythmic. His steps were effortless and poised, almost careful, to not frighten me away from letting him delve into me. So beautifully smooth, I had lost cognizance of my actions. But when I finally gained composure, I marvelled at how I felt. Nothing had been altered. I still felt indistinguishable. I still felt unique. He made sure of that. My degree of intelligence met its match. I was not intimidated. Realization dawned upon me, I had spent a life preparing to defend myself from a man like him, when he did arrive, there was no need for defence,for he embraced me, and his subtlety reassured that I would always be absolute.

Will be continued ! 

Eternally Mine

I had just ended a relationship with a man that lasted a beautiful three years. When we were with child like excitement looking forward to the beginning of a new year together, we had to crumble. 

I felt malicious. It didn't hurt when I told him it was over. What hurt was the fact that I knew that I just killed all the happiness his life had been kind to give him. He was the tender one. 

We had broken up a million times previously, I'd bounce back within a matter of a few hours. But this time was different. Almost parallel.

 It happened on a night when we were fighting over something menial, we always did ,we fought more than we spent time loving. An argument that would usually end with me in tears of desperation - not due to the fragile side that I kept veiled in me, but because of the side that is unfathomably furious with his inability to comprehend the simplest of words. That night, my anger did not turn into frustrated tears , instead I felt a wave of conviction that engulfed me ,the crest brought along with it the command that I have had enough. I never usually act out of an impulse, I didn't this time either - only that the process of thinking twice before leaping occurred at a blinding speed. I shut every possible gate of communication with him and the next thing I was conscious of was ,me making a promise on something I wouldn't dare breach. God. With that, I allowed the wave wash him,all that I felt for him, and the dreams I had for us, away like how the existence of a wave can never be proved after it has receded completely. I let him go.

It was painless, I had no regrets. I had myself convinced that I was just numb. A new found strength in me, stopped me from feeling anything that would make me wince. It was so easy. It felt calm from the deepest in me. What overwhelmed me was surprise. Surprised that I never once had the urge to go running back to him, surprised at how serene it felt when it should have shook me hard . I wondered how I never felt hollow inside , wondered how I was so content . Not a tear drop. Not a single one would roll down my cheek. I had answers, I thoroughly knew why I ended it, I never questioned my actions. I didn't feel the loss. I felt victorious instead. Content from having taken the right way out.

 It wasn't that I didn't love him anymore, I just wasn't in love perhaps. I still felt protective about him, I could never stop being maternally instinctive - an aspect which none who didn't belong in the world I had created , would have knowledge of. The difference lied in the way I would look at him again - it wouldn't be one of romantic love, I would be looking at the innocence of a child born to another, but is eternally mine.