If you were given the chance, the once in a lifetime choice to make a difference, be the difference between you and you later, what would you say? What would you do?
The room was quiet. It was just me and her sitting on the couch of a first floor coffee shop. Two brown mugs were facing towards us, looking half empty from the inside. It made me wonder if had they been alive, would they share the same sentiments as we were in right now?
Leaning on my shoulders was asleep this miniature girl with her hair covering her bright face. Clean silky black straight hair, gently blowing in the air as the fan shook disapprovingly at the young non-couple selfishly sharing the same leather for the several hours of non-verbal communication.
Soft ballads shared our connection there and then, whispering words of deep regrets for not grasping the moment when he could. Letting the wind of destiny slip through the gaps effortlessly, blindfolded.
The hands of time were the physical gestures of an angry watch, constantly reminding us of the remaining time we had before aprons would come and sweep our feet towards the rough grey outside the entrance door.
I hear her breathe out little puffs of air. Her chest rose to the silent drumming of her heartbeat. A steady movement that attracts my senses upwards to her lips. Soft, glossy delicate pinks that would carefully spread, exposing the cute pair of rabbits representing their family of 32.
Comfort has wrapped us around its warm embrace, sluggishly covering her beautiful face with calm and peace. Her resting eyes displayed her successful escape from world and worries. Her invulnerability cheated surroundings of her usual troublesome days. Not a single wrinkle stained her perfect features.
She twisted her slender body and snaked her arms around mine, seeking similar traits of her favorite pillow in her deep soothing slumber. It makes me wonder how the innocence could fight the everyday wars of troubles and misunderstandings.
A girl so flawless and untainted yet having to face hateful words of insult and mockery that paints the accurate sketch which forms her being each time she is packed and suited. Armed with a blissful smile and moonlit eyes as she enters courts of misunderstandings each day, she battles her foes with passion in her heart and logic of angels wisdom.
I turn around and land a gentle peck on her crown and the little twitch she does in response.
I love you…
… But you and I were not meant to be…
In the jurisdiction of God’s twisty mindgames…
You are married and I…
Hundred Crumbs Lane 