A Momentary Lapse of Reason

Note: Another attempt at fiction after quite some time. Tried to keep it short.

I think relationships can be defined by big moments that don't happen. ...Or by the little ones that do.

I don’t know where I went wrong. I don’t know if it one big thing, or one tiny thing, or several tiny things. I don’t know if the whole thing was wrong in the first place, but I did not see it coming.

I remember the first time I saw you. He and I were going to watch a movie, and you rudely cut into line before us. Then you lit a cigarette and gloriously ignored my coughing.

You turned around with the tickets in hand, and smiled, no laughed at Her, ran up to Her and almost snatching the slushie from Her hand, gulped down the last of it.

A common friend introduced us a few days later. I didn’t realize then it was you. You still don’t know. You gave a customary nod and smile towards me at my introduction, not really taking in any information about me. At the end of the party, I was waiting for Him to pick me up, saying my goodbyes to my friends. You - the party animal - was amongst the last to leave. Again, a cursory nod, and you were off, without a good bye or ‘hope to see you again’

Fate played a cruel game. He and you became friends. Back then, I saw it as being forced into your company. I took it as you trying to steal Him away from me. What with all our ‘dates’ moving from just the two of Us, to including you, and maybe more guys, hanging out at sports bars. I was jealous for the first time, and because of a guy. Not a good feeling.

I’d come home from a week long business trip. I’d been dying to see Him after being away for so long, but to my disappointment, when I got off the plane, He called to say, He was stuck at work with a deadline. Instead, He’d asked you to pick me up. Maybe it was the long flight, but mostly it was you that made me reply, ‘If you can’t come, I’ll make it home myself, I don’t need a stupid driver’. Of course, when I turned around, you were standing right there, after eavesdropping on my not-so-soft-spoken conversation and fake-grinned ‘your chauffeur is here ma’am’.

His birthday was around the corner. I couldn’t think of a good enough gift to get Him. And I wanted it to be special. ‘What do you get a guy who has me?’ I asked. You named a book, which has gone on to become amongst his most favorite books. I hadn’t realized you read. Heck, I hadn’t realized we talked enough, for you to be suggesting gift ideas, and me to be accepting them. It was when He gave me the biggest grin ever when He ripped open the present, that I realized I couldn’t have gotten Him anything better. I turned around to smile thanks at you, but you were too busy stuffing your face with cake.

It’d crept up on me, I’m sure. How else could I not have realized we were becoming friends? The frequency of calls increased, the subjects, moving from just one question to long discussions. When did I start talking to you? When did I start laughing with you? When did you become among the first people to know anything that happened with me? He didn’t mind our friendship. In fact He was glad for it. I’m not of the stone-age mindset, but I wish for once He’d have a tiny problem with it. He didn’t.

Our jobs often took us to different cities. We spent precious little time together. I would miss Him terribly when He wasn’t here with me. Another place, I wouldn’t mind. But here, home didn’t seem home without Him. Phone calls, no matter how long, or detailed, could only comfort so much. You became the one I turned to. I’d often tag along with you and Her. Funny, I never wondered if She felt the same as you did initially, while hanging out with us. She didn’t seem to mind, and She and I got to be friends too. But seeing you with Her, got harder with time. Maybe I misunderstood.

The two of you together, always reminded me of the two of us. If not in how you were, then in how you were not. Mostly the latter. I always thought ours was a grown up mature relationship, and yours most obviously wasn’t. The silly arguments, and the mushy making up, the giggling and the touching, the wanting to know about every second of the other’s life- I thought we were way over that. Again I misunderstood. I openly made jokes about how childish you two were, but I was just being jealous. I was missing Him way too much. But I thought I was too mature to simply call Him ten times a day just to hear his voice.

You sensed something was amiss. You tried your best to cheer me up. It worked, but only when I was with you. When you weren’t around, my mind was even more confused now. Missing Him and you. I should’ve seen it coming at least then but I didn’t. i was just missing Him, and you distracted me. I knew this. Then why?

How did we end up there? How could I have misunderstood so much? How did I end up being so confused. I never stopped loving Him, I never thought any one else could ever take his place. Yet there we were. Watching a movie, one afternoon. Some stupid zombie type movie, none the less. I laughed appropriately at all the bits that were “scary”. I don’t know how it happened. Suddenly I was very aware of the fact that I wasn’t looking at the screen, but watching your expressions change. I smiled when you gaily laughed. I smirked at your disgusted expression during the zombie-eating-human bits.

But what got me back, was when you turned to look at me. First you were still laughing at some scene, then your expression changed to a smirk, wondering what I was thinking, and finally as realization dawned, your face dropped, and your eyes closed in disappointment.

‘This isn’t’

‘I know’

‘He’s my friend’

‘I know’

‘He truly loves you’

‘I love Him too’

‘I love Her’

‘I know’

‘I’m sorry…’

‘No, it’s my fault’

‘I can’t…’

‘I don’t know what I was thinking’

‘This isn’t’

‘I… know’

Song Recommendation: ‘One Slip’ by Pink Floyd

Note: The story is fictional, the idea is not. Maybe I can come up with His and Her part of the story. Kind of feel sorry for them.

Broken

Note: Apparently, I love drama.

I’m a hoarder. I love collecting stuff. Most of all, I love collecting tiny pebbles. I used to have loads of them. Picked up mainly at beaches. Different shapes, different textures, different sizes. Each one, unique. That’s what I liked best about them. I liked them all, but none of them were exactly the same as another.

One day, when the pebbles grew a little larger in number than I could manage with ease, I got a beautiful glass jar to keep them in. With the pebbles all piled up together, the glass jar seemed a pleasant sight to look at, with the different colors within it, reflecting light at different angles. I placed it right where the first rays of the morning sun could hit it, and the first thing I saw each morning when I awoke. And I smiled each time I looked at it. Slowly, but surely the jar began to fill up. More pebbles of more colors, shapes, sizes and textures. Each time, I thought one more wouldn’t fit into it, I’d just shake the jar a bit, and the pebbles within would move, to accommodate the new one.

Then one day, two things happened. I got a new pebble to add to my collection, but before I got to add it to the jar, I found out there were going to be guests coming over. The guests included children, which included a lot of running around, and into things, and my first thought went out to my pebbles. I wasn’t very keen on handing out my pebbles to them yet either. So I took the jar and I placed it on a very high shelf, where none of the little hands could reach for it.

All was well for most of the time, until my worst fears came true, when one of the kids, running amok (why aren’t there leashes for those things? :-P) headed straight for the shelf. In my minds eye, I almost saw it before it happened, but was dumbstruck. In slow-mo I watched the kid run into the shelf, and then bounce off its door and run out of the room, without breaking pace, getting away from the other kids behind him. I stared up where the jar, shaken from its position wobbled a bit, then stilled dangerously onto the edge of its base, before making its journey downwards.

I lunged for it, trying to protect it, but from across the room, my move didn’t do much good. I halted, suddenly, and closed my eyes just when it hit the floor. But I could not shut down the sounds that followed. The glass shattering, the pebbles scattering, the gasps of the people followed by their sudden silence. I opened my eyes, to the blurry (I was NOT gonna cry) mess in front of me. Each precious pebble I’d so carefully sought and guarded, there amongst bits of glass. I tried to salvage a few, but the jar had shattered into so many little pieces, I couldn’t touch a pebble without getting any glass in my fingers. My bloodied fingers finally made me stop, And I resigned to the fact that I could never have those back again.

Walked out this morning/ Don't believe what I saw/ A hundred billion bottles/ Washed up on the shore/ Seems I'm not alone at being alone/ A hundred billion castaways/ Looking for a home - Message in a Bottle by Police

I have that one new pebble that I hadn’t yet added to the jar. Maybe I’ll start over, or maybe I’ll add it to the trash bag with all the others.

Fade to Nothing

I had a dream last night.

I am walking down a road. It is unfamiliar to me, but not unknown. I’d never been down this one before, but the terrain, now that I knew. There’s a little bit of me, that tiny voice that loves the ‘unsafe’. This road has huge warning signs all over it. As I walk along, the person walking besides me (changing every second from person to person, everyone I ever knew and loved) keeps asking me to stop. Keeps telling me it is dangerous. Some try to move me away from it physically, but I somehow find the urge to keep going irresistible. The tiny voice in my head is having the time of its life, egging me on. ‘It will be so much fun. Aren’t you bored of being so nice all the time. Aren’t you just sick of doing what everyone else asks you to do? This one’s the biggest challenge I could find for now. If you conquer this, well, you will be basking in the rewards later, and these people will be your side, applauding you then.’ The voice is crazy with glee, overshadowing everyone else’s, and so I pay heed to it. Ignoring the pleas, ignoring the threats from some of my friends. I keep walking. Slowly, my companion fades. In phases, there is someone suddenly walking besides me, and a few steps later I am all alone. Even the voice in my head has left me. I have no company anymore, and if I have to walk down this road I am all by myself. I look back, once, to see if I should really go back, but there is nothing behind me. Nothing at all, just black emptiness. I look ahead and there is the road stretched out in front of me, flooded with blinding light. There is clearly only one way to go.

I’m walking and with each step I take, the ground behind me vanishes into nothingness. The road seems really easy. Is it really the one I’ve been seeking when I was walking through all the others? I know there is something brilliant waiting for me at the end of this road, but the details elude me. I just know that I have to keep walking, and while I cant wait to reach the end, I don’t want the road to end either. I realize that I’ve begun to run, run really fast, and it is so graceful, so fluid, that I almost shock myself into waking up. As I run along, the landscape keeps changing constantly, but one thing remains constant, the road behind me keeps turning into nothing. If it weren’t for the changing landscape, and the fact that I could feel my body move faster than ever, I would be simply standing in the same place staring out into the light, with nothing behind me. I have an aerial view of myself as I run, and I am the line that divides the road from nothing, as I keep moving, the darkness keeps moving, engulfing with it more and more of the road. As I run along, I still catch odd glimpses of people I know. People I’ve loved. Some just stand there, and I am unable to make out any more because I have run past them, and they have been engulfed into nothing. Some I spot from a little distance, they seem to try to mouth something out to me, but with the sounds of my footsteps and my breathing, I can’t hear a word they say. I try to stop a couple of times, but I am unable to, its like I am now a machine that has been set to run at a predetermined sped in a particular direction. Few, very few, try to run along, I spot them for longer periods, trying to keep up, stay with me, knowing I cannot understand, just quietly running along, with the occasional smile that is both meant to reassure me of their presence , and at the same time, sad. ‘Why sad?’ I wonder out aloud, ‘at least you care enough to try to keep up. The others didn’t even take a step‘. As soon as I say this out, their look changes to one of hurt. I do not know why, but immediately after they are left behind too.

I’m confused now, I want to continue, but I still want to stop and go back. I realized I can only go forward. My body has stopped being controlled by my brain, and is just moving ahead, and I realize all I can do now is give in, and wait and watch. I resume my aerial position, and watch as my body moves along the road, with the darkness moving in from behind. It suddenly hits me, I am not running away into the light, I am running away from the darkness, which is engulfing me fast from behind. I am surprised that my body knew this before my mind. Now I am glad that I’m moving away, though I am afraid what it means that my friends are being left behind. As soon as I think this, I spot one more moving ahead. One of my closest friends, my rock. Long before I reach there, my  friend has started to run, knowing that keeping up will require a huge head start. I know that my heart would be a little hurt, lacking the logic that my brain has. I would only have seen it as my friend running away, leaving me behind. My brain understands,  grasps the concept of the true friend and the fact that my heart will never forgive my friend for leaving me behind. I suddenly realize what me heart is asking my body to do, and I try to go back, force it into reason, but the attempt is futile. I can only watch, shocked, as I see myself catch up, and push - put out my arm, and use all the super-human force I seem to possess - my friend into the darkness.

My mind is reeling. From up here, with this objective view, I finally get the look of hurt on my friend’s face, and am ashamed of myself for putting it there. Another one lost into the darkness. All sorts of thoughts are running in my head now. Jumbled, in random order, with little or no reference. I am thinking back to all the times I let my heart decide before my mind, and I think back to the outcomes. Whoever said, listen to your heart over your mind, did they think it through? While I am still coping with the thoughts, still wondering about the kind of person I’ve been, I happen to look ahead, and happen to see what I instinctively know my body has not, the end of the road. Just as the darkness behind me, there is nothing beyond that point on the road ahead, and I am hurtling towards there. Even though I know, that I haven’t been the best person, survival instincts kick and in , and I rush towards my body, determined to get it under control again. I have to make it stop. I don’t know what will happen when I stop, will I just be stuck on the road, between two worlds of darkness? I shall be alone, I have myself pushed away anyone who ever cared. But I know I must stop. I have to. The aerial view I have shows me that we’re almost there at the edge. My heart and body still won’t listen to my mind. On the contrary, I see a smile on my lips, albeit disconnected from my eyes. My eyes look elated, not in a happy kind, just in the sense that says it knows its goal is achieved.

I am too late, in the end I won’t be able to save even myself. I see the light slimming down to a sliver and the last thing I can see is myself, jumping off the edge of the road, (which now seems to be a cliff) into nothing. And then there is only the darkness. The last thing I feel, is my feet leaving firm ground and jumping into nothing, the darkness I’ve been running from. As I feel the lurch of the ground slipping beneath my feet, I jerk awake, breathing as though I had actually run all that way. I do not know if, when I jumped, I managed to fly, or if I fell.

“Time takes it all whether you want it to or not, time takes it all. Time bares it away, and in the end there is only darkness. Sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there again.”

- Stephen King

Note: Didn't exactly think this one through. The work of a truly insomniac mind.

The brain is hazy between the real and the dream now.

~

Song Recommendation: Run Away by Staind

A Phoenix Rises from its Ashes

 Dedicated to my friends, you know who You are :)

A phoenix is a mythical bird with a colorful plumage and a tail of gold and scarlet (or purple, blue, and green according to some legends). It has a 500 to 1,000 year life-cycle, near the end of which it builds itself a nest of twigs that then ignites; both nest and bird burn fiercely and are reduced to ashes, from which a new, young phoenix or phoenix egg arises, reborn anew to live again. It is said that the bird's tears contain healing abilities of pureness, and their cry is that of a beautiful song.-Source: Wikipedia

In the room beyond that door, which is just like the one I currently am in, I can see a marvelous crystal phoenix. The sunrays from the window, reflects various colors from its surface, not unlike a rainbow. It’s perfect, in every sense of the word. So perfect, it seems mythical, but it is right there, and I can see it, and so it must be real. Every move it makes, it seems to radiate, not reflect the light that falls on it. Every word of its song seems so beautiful to me, so precious, so true. A tear drops from its eye. Even that tear drop seems perfect, perfectly shaped, healing some wound, making things a bit better.

I’m sure if you step in my place, you’ll see it too. As you move, closer, away, as you sway, as you stand still, you notice it imitates you perfectly. It looks so perfect, yet you look for imperfections. It looks so familiar, and you can’t place it. Until, you catch the glimpse of light reflected from its eye, and you realize. It isn’t any crystal phoenix. It’s a mirror, and you are the crystal phoenix.

You, the one with the tear pouring down one eye. You heal the wounds of others with it, ignoring the wounds hidden deep within you, which time hasn’t been able to heal.

You, the one that even when you cry, it seems a beautiful song to the listener. The one that soothes, that calms, ignoring the chaos within you. Melodious, exactly what the listener wants to hear, answering life’s questions for someone, with no one to listen to you ‘crying’.

You, the one that is perfect, ideal. An example for others to follow. You, that is meant to follow a path laid out for you since before you were born. One that leads to things admired, sure, but one you may not have wanted. One you can’t stray from, even when what you do want, is right around that previous turn you should have taken on your path.

You, the one supposed to lead. The one that others can look up to. No guides or aides to help you, but you must lead towards a victorious end. You, that can do no wrong, not because you’re always right, but because you are not allowed to do anything wrong. Only your glories are to be highlighted, your failures, rare though they might be, punished personally, and unknown to a world that could learn from your mistakes.

You, the one that seems crystal to the world, so exquisite, so delicately put together. Everyone appreciates that. No one appreciates how little it would take to break you.

But it does take little to break you. You are that brittle. Maybe one little push, a shiver to the stand you’re perched on. That will be the end of you. You might survive it, but that gleam, that reflection from your own eye, that is what breaks you. You realize your imperfections, you realize your unfamiliarity. You realize them because it’s true. You cannot bear to look at yourself anymore, and that is why, when you do look, right into the eyes of your reflection, you break.

Crumble into fine bits, and finally ashes. They, who you healed, who you soothed, who you led, who you were an ideal to, spare you a glance or two of pity, no more. That, to them, is the end of you. The End of an Era they claim to say, as if they ever knew you. But man’s greatest fault has been his ignorance. They do not realize.

You are broken, you cannot be fixed. But your greatest strength was in knowing you were broken. And so you let yourself ‘die’ in their eyes. But really, you were only waiting, biding your time. What is broken cannot be fixed, but you are beyond broke, you are back to ashes. And only when something is completely destroyed, can something new be created in its place.

And that’s what you’re set to do. Rise again, rise from the ashes. Slowly, but surely. Some might realize it’s you, most won’t, but it won’t matter. What will matter is you. Because, once you're born again, renewed in body and mind, you will be everything you ever wanted to be, even if it is nothing what is expected of you.

The phoenix, reborn, will not be of icy crystal. It will be full of fire within. It will not travel along paths laid down for it. It will soar through the open skies. Flying, resting, soaring again. Never staying. It will lead by example, with its failures being celebrated as much as its victories, its right to its own share of mistakes acknowledged, accepted. It will sing songs, that will soothe, and answer, but they will be songs its learned from its life. Songs about its failures maybe, but songs it is proud of, not about its hurt. Its tears may heal, but they wont be tears of its own wounds that are still open. It will be tears of joy, of victories past. Tears that will heal much quicker, much better.

It will soar, into the open skies, so high, above anyone, anything that can claim the sky. It will fly alone, but that will be out of choice, not necessity. It will be perfect, maybe not to me, maybe not to you, but when that phoenix next looks into its own reflection, it will not look away from itself, nor will it crumble when it meets the eye of its reflection. The fire within it will soar further. It will engulf the phoenix, the mirror, the reflection and the phoenix will further flourish.

It is then that you realize, there is no ice, no fire, no mirror, no reflection. No phoenix. There is only you. Then, and now.

Note: The idea for this post came to me more than a week ago, and weird(pleasant) coincidence that it was, I noticed that a friend of mine had written a poem, titled 'The Phoenix Arrives'. Be sure to check it out. Great piece of work.

(More Than) Empty Conversations

Note: Another long one. Be warned.

I’d had one of those days, when everything was well on its way downhill, and going further down. It was late at night, way past the time I’d be allowed to walk into my hostel. ‘Guess I’ll just have to jump the wall again’ I’d thought, as I made my way down to the sea facing promenade. It was, as it always is, almost full of couples. I found a spot that was well lit and therefore relatively couple-free. I’d settled on the concrete and was blankly staring at the water, almost black in the dark, crashing onto the rocks. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them, and was sort of glad as it was finally letting me blank out a bit.

‘Those rocks’, (I’d jumped a foot into the air), ‘are sharp. They’ll bruise pretty badly. And the water. If the tide catches up, it could get real tricky.’ I’d been trying to get my breath back as he finished with ‘Could hurt someone real bad, but probably won’t kill’. With my senses (and my ass back on the concrete) back, I’d realized I knew the guy. Correction, I knew of him. He’d been one of those guys, that everyone knew, popular, and not necessarily in a good way. I had an easy way of categorizing people like him – Jerk. Great! And he has to be suicidal. Excuse me if I’m not out saving the world and its mortals tonight. ‘Not worth it, if you wanna kill yourself’, he smirked. I decided he wasn’t worth a response, gave him my best What-is-your-f-ing-problem? look and went back to staring at the dark rocks and water.

‘I almost didn’t recognize you.’ Yeah well, remind me to thank all the Gods there might be. As if he’d heard me, and yet, as though he was talking to himself he continued, ‘Your camera. You always seem to be behind it, you seem incomplete without it.’ Before I could think it through, I pointed at my back-pack and said ‘It’s in here. Not feeling much like taking pictures tonight.’ Now I wondered why I was justifying myself to him. And what the hell does he mean, incomplete without it? I’m without it lots of times… sometimes…occasionally. And how did he notice anyway? He’d have to be around to notice, and he pretty sure wasn’t., was he?

I’d never spoken to him, never so much as acknowledged or been acknowledged by him, and I sure didn’t want to start now, when I was at my anti-social best. ‘So, what is a girl like you doing here at a time like this?’ he asked. Two questions immediately arose in my mind. He wanted to be all chatty now? And Girl like me? Again, thoughtlessly, and a bit irritated, I answered ‘My boyfriend ran away with my best friend, so...’ As can be expected, I was greeted with silence. It was my turn to smirk when I looked around and saw his look that screamed too-much-information. Surprising even myself, I let out a laugh, and then laughed some more when he gave me another look that clearly said he thought I’d lost it. Between laughs, I confessed ‘It’s just a phrase my friend uses.’ His look didn’t change, and I explained further, ‘You know when you have a problem that seems to be bigger than the world to you, but insignificant to most people? This phrase is the mother of all such problems’. He nodded, but he still looked a bit unsure of my sanity.

We’d sat for a few more minutes in silence and strangely, I wasn’t minding the company. Even stranger, once I’d started, I wanted to talk more. So I continued. ‘It’s been a really bad day. Just had to get away from it all, you know.’ I didn’t know what I’d expected, but certainly not his ‘Yes, I do.’ I’d waited for him to continue, say something more, but right from the start he’d be the one who controlled our ‘conversation’, and he said nothing more. As time passed us by, and waves crashed at out feet dangling over the edge, we rifted in and out of conversations. Him doing most of the talking, me getting in a few questions, but not all the answers. Turned out, we’d both frequented this place often, but never bumped into each other. I’d thought that in my year and a half in this city, I’d been the most regular visitor at this spot, even counting the couples, but he’d beaten me at that.

Randomly he’d ask me a question like ‘So then what is your boyfriend-ran-away-with-your-best-friend-problem?’ that would follow a completely harmless question like, ‘what other places in the city do you haunt?’ Maybe it was that I’d had a crappy day, or just that I was expecting some deep introspection tonight, but I felt myself open up, like I hadn’t in ages. Maybe I’d sub-consciously known what was in store for the future of this conversation. More times than one, I was more than halfway through saying something, before I myself comprehended the magnitude of what I was telling him. Like ‘when I left home, I was so sure of myself, I knew what I wanted, and I knew I could never get that back home.’ He didn’t prompt, he didn’t assume, he didn’t judge. Maybe that was what made me continue, ‘I left everything behind there, everything. And now, I don’t even know what I’m doing, why I’m doing it or even whom I’m doing it for.’ ‘Sometimes you’re not supposed to. Until the end. But no matter what you do, there is almost always the time and concession to go back a few steps and correct your mistakes.’ While I stared in shock at the profundity in his words, it was his turn to laugh out aloud, as he said ‘that’s a phrase I read somewhere. Personally I think you’re screwed. Maybe you ought to jump.’ I’d almost pushed him into the water then.

Couples around us left, a few more came, but even they left before we’d moved. Mostly it had been just long periods of silence. Twice, I distinctly remembered, he’d handed me those small glasses of coffee. I’d never even noticed when he’d gone and come back. He’d probably got it from one of those vendors, which set up stalls for creatures of the night like us. To my question, ‘Why do you pretend to be such a jerk?’, he’d answered, ‘the same reason you pretend not to care.’ No direct answers. While I’d learnt a lot more about him; that he hated movies, just had to always listen to music (I could see his earplugs dangling beneath his collar, and some music blasting from it), and surprise, surprise, that he was actually well read, I still didn’t know anything about him. But even as I asked the questions, I didn’t push him for the answers.

We’d danced around the questions the other asked, at some point we’d gotten up and walked a bit along the promenade, thrown pebbles into the sea trying to see who could throw it the farthest (even though we couldn’t actually see the stones), none of the things I’d ever imagined I’d be doing that night, much less with him. Honestly, before I’d realized it, we noticed it getting lighter around us, the sun was rising. I’d taken out my camera, for a few morning shots, shots that I never would have gotten considering the unearthly hour for me. He’d got us more coffee, and as we sat drinking it, I managed to get a few candid shots of his, as he answered, or avoided answering a question of mine. ‘What is a guy like you doing here at a time like this?’ I asked. ‘Remember your phrase?’ he asked me. ‘Yes’. ‘I was the boyfriend’. Even though it didn’t answer my question, I thought that was all I was going to get, and went back to my coffee. Surprising me for the umpteenth time, he said, softly, ‘I cheated on my girlfriend, with her best friend’. Needless to say, I didn’t have a response, preferring to slurp at that last bit of bitter black liquid at the bottom of the glass. ‘So you see, I am a jerk.’ We sat in silence for a few minutes, till I heard and was nearly blinded by the flash of my own camera. ‘The hunter becomes the hunted’, he grinned. And a smile crept onto my face, as I looked at the picture. I hated pictures of myself, but this was a good one. Nothing pretty about it, just candid. Me staring out at the ocean, with some of it in the frame, and the soft light of sunrise.

‘Anyway, time for me to go’. Just like that. Abrupt. Just like everything the night had been. Weirdly, I didn’t find it awkward, or rude. ‘Yeah, me too. My roomie’s gonna …’ I stopped at his too-much-information look and smiled, as he stood up and turned to walk away. No goodbye. ‘Hey’, I called out, ‘what were you really doing here tonight?’ I don’t know why I’d asked him that. It wasn’t that he’d have given me an answer then. But then he stopped mid stride, turned around and said ‘Considering jumping down onto those rocks.’ He smiled at the look on my face and waved.

I saw him next a couple of days later in college. We passed each other along a corridor, him with those jerk friends of his, me rushing out. We looked at each other, but there wasn’t recognition on either of our faces, no acknowledgement of that night.

When I’d been uploading my most recent batch of pictures that night, I suddenly realized, I had none of those shots of his I’d taken. Mine, of course was still there. The only evidence.

That was the last I saw him.

That was two years ago.

A couple of nights ago, I happened to go back to that place, not unlike the several other times I had done since then. But that night, I saw him there. He was sitting there at the same spot, where we’d had our last coffee. This time, when we looked at each other, we acknowledged it.

As happens sometimes a moment settled... and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped… for much, much more than a moment. And then the moment was gone.

Note: Credit to my friend (who doesn't want it), for the phrase 'My Boyfriend Ran Away with my Best Friend' as a categorization for earth-shattering problems :-p


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Song Recommendation: Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd