Much to my extreme pleasure, an anonymous follower of my blog has taken the efforts to write his version of the story, from the boy's point of view!
I cannot express how flattered this has made me feel, for this write up is almost flawless...
And to think, my story inspired this...I feel super-duper...Hope you enjoy this too!
Thank you Mr. Anonymous for this...I so wish you'd tell me who you are, but glad you came around anyway:-)*
The grass looked more green...the sky a little more blue...the wind a little more warm as the days neared.
He stood in the corner of the rusty gates of the chapel. The decoration lights were already put on, but still the setting sun's glare made them shy in their own light. His eyes searched through the crowds for her.
The eager stream of people with their overtly sprayed cologne and dabbed face powder were roaming aimlessly exchanging fake pleasantries. But it’s easy to recognize a fake happy face in the crowd of genuine smiles. He saw her.
She hadn’t changed much, but still somehow looked a bit older or rather, say a bit more mature.
She was trying to get rid of her innocence it seems.
The white silk gown was tightly wrapped around her, merging with her hues as if it was an extension of her white skin. He was amused as how a girl who never touched makeup in her life was hiding under the generous dabs of foundation.
He didn’t mean to stay, but he still found it funny how every look at her face made him fall in love with her all over again. He loved it once, today he hated it.
The kajal in her eyes was slowly smearing and she relentlessly tried to clean in with the edge of her handkerchief.
Those eyes were tired of waiting but still refused to dry up.
That moment he knew he owed her more than that, he couldn’t just leave her and assume her to understand. She was snobby he knew. She would never understand and wait. She deserved more.
The colourful lights had by now found their glitter and shone under the navy blue sky.
Slowly as if guided by hidden soldiers, the crowd started to make way to the neatly arranged chairs with their civilised jostle for the aisle seat.
In the corner the groom stood with beads of sweat on his forehead. Under the plastic smile and lumps of sweat and powder, he contemplated of a new future. New life waiting under a thin veil of time. For better or for worse.
Under the hood of confusion, he made his way across the hall. He wondered if this guy knew how it tickled her when you run your finger over her naval button, if he knew how she loved to be bitten just under the cheekbone below her left ear and closed her eyes as a kitten on her master's lap. Maybe he does not know about how meanly she bites your lower lip, which she says that is her mark on you.
For a moment he thought he should tell him, but decided against it.
He had urgent things to do; he had to meet her and breakdown in her arms. He has to end it all.
He slowly slipped through the closed door near the staircase. He could smell her presence near somewhere. She was there, lost dejected as if tired of the ongoing war of her life. She was alone, maybe waiting for her father to walk her down the aisle.
He shed his darkness and walked before her. She looked up and stared at him with lifeless eyes as if not believing his presence, ignoring his existence. He clutched her hand and dragged her under comforting darkness under the stairs.
He breathed harder on to her neck...
She noticed how her goose bumps surfaced by his mere touch.
As if a switch was flicked on, soon her eyes were baring all those hidden questions and anger. Then slowly, he saw her melting into him, the pain of his digging fingernails were maybe in no comparison to the pain of her heart.
He jerked back to reality; he knew he could not allow that. He has to let her go, no explanations can suffice, no pain can hurt her anymore, she had frozen her soul, and giving it new warmth of love is not going to help her.
He let go of her hands but in the next instant he cupped her face...
He has to go, go back into the little box of her past, he cannot be her future hence he has no right to be her present. Then why was he here...he wondered about his own intensions as he burnt again for her...a fire that he had never known with anyone else and never admitted of its intensity even to her!
Yes, he needed her mark on his lower lip before he left...for good!!
He kissed her for one last time.
His mouth closed in and opened worlds together within her and she knew no matter how passionate the kisses may be with anyone else who ever ventured that way...she would never be able to let go of the mind numbing effect he had on her. She would never be able to get that slight shiver of her lips coming in contact with his delicious mouth...that rhythmic movement of their tongues...the satiating feeling of his saliva in her mouth and how his hands moved along with the perfect synchrony!
Then he stood there and slowly broke into a grin...the world was no more mysterious....
Let the grass have all the green, let the sky get all the blue...but he had experienced his whole life in an instant.
He strolled out of the church gate, leaving behind a little squeak of the rusts.
He took out the paper from his back pocket he has been carrying for a month. A paper that decided he will not be granted more than 6 months of life. Pancreatic cancer they said will kill him....he wondered will it really?
He threw away the paper; he threw away the burden of death that he carried for so long. Because he just left his life back in the chapel to be handed over to a stranger.