Love or the idea of love brought them together. He, a young boy, who dreamt of everything except her; She, a young girl, who dreamt of nothing except him. A destiny more cruel than evil itself had conspired their meeting, and when they did He spoke of many nights he spent thinking about how he would rise and shine, the nights that were only his, the nights she wasn't allowed to be part of. She, on the other hand, was living the joy his innocent laughter and uncaring love brought to her. A young girl She was still, yet felt like a woman. That he had become a part of her was a myth He endorsed and she readily surrendered.
They met often. Often enough to keep the pretence of 'love' alive in each other. And when they did, her eyes beamed with a joy that seldom greeted her eyes. His had guilt. She wanted him to look at Her, feel Her breath against His chest, feel the fear she had nurtured ever since the tight of their hands loosened. He couldn't feel. His gift of detachment became her curse of a lifetime. She knew that she had come close to losing Him. "Why?" was a question that haunted her. She hoped to have a part of him, but hopes she knew were as fragile as dreams. He had sold his soul to the strangers en route to nothingness. Now it was her turn...
... She spent nights, her eyes, filled with tears, mourned the loss of self that she felt. He loved this lowness in her. It gave him strength. Yet she liked to be joyous and giggled at times, even though he had stolen the happiness in that laughter. But she was an actress par excellence. Sometimes, curled in her mother's arms, she lied about Him, lied about the happiness that the mother had seen in her eyes long back. He and She learned to live with the lies and a fatal denial that they were consuming each other.
Intoxicated by their newfound ugliness, pain became an obscenity they celebrated each time they met. He, in the satisfaction that She was deprived of his affection. She, in her aspiration to become what she had been to him once. Hurt was not an emotion they felt any longer, it was passe.
Their inherent monstrosity benumbed them. Out of love, they preyed on each other. They were half human half beasts, but performed the act of togetherness to perfection till the very end. In this lifelessness, they lived or pretended to live unhappily ever after.
Ends
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7 comments:
Nice. Intimate relationships don't always follow standard rules of right and wrong, though its always easy to pontificate from a distance. The obsession of love might well assume a very negative logic. (i think)thats what you've described in your writing, and wonderfully.
It's plain sentimental shit, and not necessarily a personal experience. will try and put better stuff next time
well expressed and composed, a tad long though...
'''500 taka joley jaabe"".....i want 2 start it frm here as there is no scratch left.obviously, ur 500 bucks will go down d drains if u miss dis woman's writings.she freezes destinies of her protaganists who try 2 look in2 her eyes.she makes them 2 reassemble their fate lines who think they r happy enough 2 sit back wth wat they got.she is not jealous abt their respective fates,only a bit less happy 2 stamp a perfect smile on their faces.this z her world.it entirely belongs 2 her.she z incharge of dis small- turning- big tragicomickingdom.but she never misuses this 4 d sake her emotions.she just leaves u at d threshold of guilt,where u lightup another cigarette 2 avoide d rationality over less impressive human sentiments.if u hav d power u can discover Yates in dis woman,who z on her way 2 write another Revolutionary Road.tc.godbless.
Yeats wud never write a Revolutionary Road
ana ....i'm just correcting u here(n dont mind it, plz)dat I'm refering 2 Richard Yates(Novelist) n not Yeats(poet).Yates has been a failure novelist n story writer of 60's who lived off his life writing U.S President's speeches.Revolutionary Road was his 1st novel,which was a finalist for the National Book Award in 1962 along with Catch-22 and The Moviegoer.It came in 2 lime light 1ly when Sam mendes adapted it by d same name.tc
no wonder i din know about him.
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