Love isn’t stock-still. The intensity is as erratic as the fluctuations of the stock market.
Ambiance full of tranquility with a mesmerizing breeze which carries you through different seasons of emotions. Sometimes acts like the beautiful droplets on the fresh barley and at times a landslide blocking the route to hearts.
The swift breeze lyrically moving the hair while teaching some moves to the front strands beautifully twigged to the moist crease of the lower lip. The hand automatically follow the tunes to remove the strands sensually from the face, but here his hands hideously steal that moment to *DANCE* on a magical *CHANCE* awarded by fate.
While touching the cheeks gently with his maddening fingertips you smile to yourself in an era of overwhelmed love (No matter how much his fingertips are in love with the strings of the office laptop).
And there, your eyes coincide with his (you automatically lift your face towards him), the situation when you step forward in a different zone to realize if you can be comfortable — and in that particular moment you learn a lot about relationships.
A sudden desire that you would need him and he is that only imperfect soul who can comfort you with a perfectly blessed relationship — apparently he is less uncomfortable initially in comparison to you. He’s not afraid to be susceptible, as he’s naturally confident and can conclude his emotions much better than you know you’ll ever be able to figure out on your own.
Certainly not because you want to be totally raw or inaccessible or open or exhausted (at times) — it’s just because deep down you are shivering and freaked out and scared till eternity thinking about the next moves. The reasons of getting afraid? Will you be hurt? No, he will never hurt you.
Afraid of someone else’s charm could steal him any day? Believe me, genuine guys never do that. Departure due to death? Partially true. The only reason where he would be helpless. Yet, that’s still not it. And you are encouraged with this chance to fight uselessly with him when you don’t even want to (when there’s nothing really to fight about). And tears roll down the pink cheeks, reasons are mystic to you too.
Maybe it’s because you shouted at him the other day when he didn’t deserve. Perhaps inside you know you stand wrong, that you’re selfish, needy and stormy headed — and this combination makes you a maniac. But he happily handles this maniac. Apparently inside you know the impossibility of living without him, and you need him, as the ground would be too shaky to walk upon all without him. And there you imagine if he lives a 100 days, you would leave him a day before and wait there in some other heavenly land.
Pretty scary to need someone to hold you tight — and sometimes follow the baby steps with you — across that quivering surface. It’s unnerving that in this vast world consisting approximately 70 percent water and 30 percent land there’s only one person that you want to intertwine your fingers with, and that if he wasn’t there to kiss your cheek and gently stroke your thigh right before you both fall asleep together, this world would fall apart, and you would shatter into pieces. Because you’re not so strong. You’re antagonistic and pugnacious — certainly a white lie.
He will often have to pull your chin up (because he loves your chin), and then he has to force you to look straight in the eye while you ignore by looking away. Sometimes it is easier to act distracted and pretend that you’re whole enough without him — and maybe you are … enough, but certainly not complete. And tears are dripping down your nose again and falling perfectly in the crease of your lips and he’s not there to reach over first and dry them because now he is tired to tackle your tantrums — and too fizzy to even talk about them. And you’re sorry.
For all the shouts and screams, and that you manipulated (with your eyes and your cocky stance) realizing that you do need him. He’s that air you breathe, the water that you drink, the food you swallow and the tunes with lyrics you dance on to. He’s the vision of your eyes which gets blurry after you hurt him. The tears crack the walls and find the route to flow and you catch a napkin to subtle your mind and brew the brain.
You don’t move to search and grab your favorite napkin as it is there across the hall and you are scared that he will wake by your teeny weeny footsteps. But it’s okay. Soon you’ll crawl into bed after turning off the lights that he kept on for you, all waiting.
And in the morning he’ll grab the abandoned you over and touch your cheek giving you the tightest of all the kisses and caress your thigh where he didn’t get to the night before. Knowing the truth that you lied to him (with the hot heated grilled words like a burnt cheesy sandwich), because to him, you’re see through. He knows that he’s your world because you’re his too—and that’s more than enough.
Overflowed in love
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