Sometimes you do things, so terribe in nature, so catastrophic in impact, that their irreversibility takes your life to a standstill: where regret and pain are the two parameters which inhibit your mental progress farther into the world of trying ; trying to be acceptable to anyone ever again.
Seeing her lying by his side , holding his finger ever so lightly , his heart swells to an enormous proportion with an emotion so profound that he has to blink away his tears. The tenderness she evoked within him with something as simple as a look or holding of a finger was maybe just the kind of love that lasted beyond the initial bouts of erotic passion in a relationship. The kind of love that stayed when wrinkles marred the faces and soft, reassuring grip of hands turn into a helpless show of dependency on each other.
His hand shakes as his index finger breaks free of his gently pressed fist and traces the side of her face. Skin shining like golden honey in the sunlight, soft as a rose petal.
But touching her today hits him with a jolt of guilt so strong that he withdraws his finger lest she should open her eyes feeling him presence. In the early days of their marriage, he used to marvel at the fact how she woke up into a smiling rose each morning, without any impression of tiredness or unflattering puffiness. Even a gentle breath close to her face would wake her up from sleep and she would settle up in bed alert and smiling the next moment. She would make him feel like a king from the moment sun rays from the front window lit up her face. Her every gesture, every word basked in glow of the love they shared.
Theirs was a marriage people called ideal.
When invited to dinner at their friends , they would sit apart from each other. Between the jokes and anecdotes, sometimes he would sneak a look at his pretty wife, who most of the time would be looking back at him. A look that penetrated him like a stab of pleasure. Suddenly, from an ordinary man playing cards with his friends, he became the owner of the most beautiful, the most loving and kind woman in the gathering.
(incomplete)
But touching her today hits him with a jolt of guilt so strong that he withdraws his finger lest she should open her eyes feeling him presence. In the early days of their marriage, he used to marvel at the fact how she woke up into a smiling rose each morning, without any impression of tiredness or unflattering puffiness. Even a gentle breath close to her face would wake her up from sleep and she would settle up in bed alert and smiling the next moment. She would make him feel like a king from the moment sun rays from the front window lit up her face. Her every gesture, every word basked in glow of the love they shared.
Theirs was a marriage people called ideal.
When invited to dinner at their friends , they would sit apart from each other. Between the jokes and anecdotes, sometimes he would sneak a look at his pretty wife, who most of the time would be looking back at him. A look that penetrated him like a stab of pleasure. Suddenly, from an ordinary man playing cards with his friends, he became the owner of the most beautiful, the most loving and kind woman in the gathering.
(incomplete)
i've experienced this. true from the heart
ReplyDeletearrrgh. another one of those posts that breaks my heart makes me hate men for not being able to control themselves and being misled like a child by another devilish woman. are they really all the same on that end? :/
ReplyDelete