A valentine memoir

Friend?, a classification that didn’t fit her. And when, suddenly, the old memories come as a phone call, you panic as if it’s going to change. For a voice that casted the binding spell in my heart, it didn’t require a second to realize it was her.

How did I know it was you? You were always there with me.

Men don’t cry, they say, but for tears that didn’t come then.. didn’t know it was the same me.

And with years and distance apart, for a folly that was once done, I realize she is not in my arms to say ‘I love you’.

PS: I got the idea from poornima's post 'Do you know how long longing can be? '

The paradox.

I started wearing coolers. The dark ones, you know, which covers your eyes completely. I can see everybody but nobody can see me. They don’t see my eyes and eyes tell stories, Stories that I don’t want the world to see.
When they see me, I smile. I want them to happy, we go to places, pull each other’s leg, sometime quarrel and then reconcile. Behind the dark coolers, unknown from them I search her. Just a last glance that’s all I need. They ask me to sing, a line or two from yester years. In sweet remembrance of her smile i sing. They applaud, I smile again. One more they say, I ask which one. The one in which she departs is what they want, for the music that soothes their ears I sing those tearing lyrics. And when the music dies away, they clap again, I say thank you .
While on the beach, everybody is off with their better half. For a moment, that feeling of loneliness creeps to me. I want to be with her, and watch this glorious sunset. Salty sea breeze wakes me gently from my dreamy dream. They are coming back, one by one. I say I do not want to come to beach if the they are going to treat me this way. You don’t need to be alone, they say. They make fun of me for being alone and sitting with another friend, who is a guy, and watch the sunset. I laugh at them, and walk towards the sea to have a game with her. Others follow, we fight, throw each other so that waves can catch us. After much shouts and hooliganism we leave her to rest.
With wet foot covered in sand we watch movie in the hall. I check the seat to my left, there is nobody. I check to my right, there is everybody! Am I in the center? Or am I just left out. They call me, compares me with the hero. The movie doesn’t have a heroin. I smile at them. And when the end comes, I see a tear or two in few. They say it was a good movie. I smile again.