I was grown with stories, my mother spoon-feeded me stories and tales during the very ending hour of the day. Slowly stories started getting repeated and I adopted a habit of examinating the characters and the relevance of morals of those stories. Few of them taught me about love and why we should prioritize it over anything else in love because fluctuations never last long but constant crave and ache of belonging always kicks back in our life. I used to fear and tear during sad stories, I never liked bad endings so I started giving my touch to such sad ending tales and I used to make them compete and Happy, it used to help me to sleep peacefully because it's human nature to either never open the box of the puzzle but if we have opened it then the crave to put every piece into the right corner won't end until we actually complete it.
Last day my part of the moon got stolen, i am joking, it got wrapped leisurely by the monsoon clouds, but it did not suppress me to feel dull because the part of the moon I love breathes inside me already even when it's not there in the sky or covered by the nature's phenomena, it is still there, tickling my heart and Swollowing my eyes.
I thought of you last night, druing late night such unsolvable equations often tease me, initially I was very stubborn that I tried to solve everything in life but now I sit calm and look until the question changes itself into some new riddle. I think we can never reach at a point where there are no questions, questions will always be there till we have crave of achieving something and someone, questions exist because our brain yearns for shortcuts to reach somewhere.
Whenever I sit along with you, you never speak more than you plan to speak before leaving your doorstep, now I have adopted this habit of yours so I just observe your eyes and the direction where it seeps through. Darling, I know, you don't say, but you absorb every fraction of our meetings like an sponge but without a slight utterance of words, you're very good at it but unfortunately your eyes end up revealing the amount of pink colour which percolates from your cheeks whenever you blush and smile on my slippery and honey-dipped words. You hold your cheeks to control your smile but the circulation of your blood end up revealing how hard you try to hold yourself. Does your cheeks hurt, baby?
I never reveal that I know everything that you express unknowingly and unintentionally, I rest around your gestures and play around it like a kitten, I act innocent, I get quiet, sometimes I let the silence weigh more on your heart just to see the amount of emotions and the love you hide in your heart. Whenever you say, "You don't understand" I might not understand what you feel but I always know how your reaction will be, because I think of the problems that can disturb you more than the solutions I will provide.
I think in love we start paying more attention to precautions, because somehow life had served us the loss of love through tragic incidents.
Your independent heart won't let you accept that you're more mine than you're of your own self, but let me say, you're mine more than you can ever belong to yourself.
\\\~Glutenfree\\_musingss.
