And in the end, we will count all the things we didn't do.
While other lovers piece together moments to map their memories, we will flip through all the blank pages in this book we're writing together.
The first time we were moved enough to want to cling to each other, but didn't. The cold air-conditioned moment that brought a lump to your throat as you told me the story of your life. I had to summon up all my resolve just to keep from cupping your face with my hands and introducing my lips to yours. The pages will state that I was dressed in pink that day and you in blue, and that we ended that evening on top of a bridge and that will be all. There will be no mention of the way you looked at me and smiled from across the table, while we were surrounded by people we had never met earlier and haven't seen since.
Then there will be a blank page devoted to the time you wanted to talk about me to the person next to you on the train but didn't. All the times you wanted to send me a text at 2 am, but ended up hitting backspace instead. There should be at least a couple of pages for the time we stood facing the lit-up lake at night but did not kiss. Instead, there was a storm in your eyes and a drizzle in mine. I'd like to believe it was even more beautiful than that time we stood together and watched the rain fall as your brown eyes melted into the night.
And the pages will stay mute when it's time to talk about the night you could not take your eyes off me. You must have clicked a hundred pictures of me as I danced across the room. And each eager sip of your rum-soaked glass made you want to run your tongue along the curve of my breasts. I remember the call at midnight, when you dialled my number but ended up speaking to someone else. What would you have said to me then? And how would I have replied?
And so we go on, adding yet another blank page to the book that buries our story alive. As I write this tribute to us that you will never read, and you stare into the empty glass in your hand, saying the things that I will never hear.
We'll title the book All the things they didn't do
While other lovers piece together moments to map their memories, we will flip through all the blank pages in this book we're writing together.
The first time we were moved enough to want to cling to each other, but didn't. The cold air-conditioned moment that brought a lump to your throat as you told me the story of your life. I had to summon up all my resolve just to keep from cupping your face with my hands and introducing my lips to yours. The pages will state that I was dressed in pink that day and you in blue, and that we ended that evening on top of a bridge and that will be all. There will be no mention of the way you looked at me and smiled from across the table, while we were surrounded by people we had never met earlier and haven't seen since.
Then there will be a blank page devoted to the time you wanted to talk about me to the person next to you on the train but didn't. All the times you wanted to send me a text at 2 am, but ended up hitting backspace instead. There should be at least a couple of pages for the time we stood facing the lit-up lake at night but did not kiss. Instead, there was a storm in your eyes and a drizzle in mine. I'd like to believe it was even more beautiful than that time we stood together and watched the rain fall as your brown eyes melted into the night.
And the pages will stay mute when it's time to talk about the night you could not take your eyes off me. You must have clicked a hundred pictures of me as I danced across the room. And each eager sip of your rum-soaked glass made you want to run your tongue along the curve of my breasts. I remember the call at midnight, when you dialled my number but ended up speaking to someone else. What would you have said to me then? And how would I have replied?
And so we go on, adding yet another blank page to the book that buries our story alive. As I write this tribute to us that you will never read, and you stare into the empty glass in your hand, saying the things that I will never hear.
We'll title the book All the things they didn't do
2 comments:
Dear CC,
Thank you for posting this one. I loved the idea so much that it prompted me to stem another post on a similar line. Leaving the link here too: http://tandonz.blogspot.in/2017/11/the-blank-pages.html
Himanshu, I'm rushing to read it....
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