She spent her days and nights wrapped up in a world of words. She wrote furiously all the time and when she wasn't writing, she was thinking about the ideas awaiting their moment of release. There were many who appreciated her train of thoughts and the way she deftly strung them together. But there was only one person who could read her even when she wasn't writing. She showed him everything, even the half-baked ideas and weak plot lines. And sometimes, she wrote just for him. She called them the little things... the unnecessary, non-obligatory things... the odds and ends fit nowhere else but on that ledge on which they both sat and watched the clouds roll by. She would leave them as gifts for him in their secret place when he wasn't around, and wait in anticipation for him to show up and find them. And he never let too much time go by before getting to them. He was transparent in his reactions and let her know immediately what he thought of her writing that was just for him. Sometimes, he would just smile and scoop her up in a tight embrace that felt like it stretched forever... endless...
One day, he didn't turn up at all and when he eventually did after a couple of days, he left without a word. She ran after him and asked him what he thought of her gift. "Umm yeah... nice as always," he said as an afterthought. But she knew he didn't mean it... She wanted to know what kept him away this time. He had a long list of reasons. She listened. And finally said, "I felt bad about the fact that you didn't say anything this time until I prodded you."
"I don't always have to respond. I am not obligated to, am I?" he snapped back.
"No, you're not obligated to," she said.
"So what's all the fuss about then?" he said with his eyebrows raised and his hands deep inside his pockets.
"That's the whole point... I never wanted you to feel obligated to do anything... I always thought you expressed yourself spontaneously and that's the only thing that kept me going... that sprung the little things to life... because they made you express yourself without restraint and only because you wanted to. If it was obligation I was looking for, I wouldn't be knocking at your door."
She jumped off the ledge and dusted the back of her pants before walking away. And with each step she took, she felt a tiny, nondescript, insignificant and intangible little thing leave her soul. She held her fingers up to her face... all the lines on them had disappeared, even her palms were blank and smooth.
One day, he didn't turn up at all and when he eventually did after a couple of days, he left without a word. She ran after him and asked him what he thought of her gift. "Umm yeah... nice as always," he said as an afterthought. But she knew he didn't mean it... She wanted to know what kept him away this time. He had a long list of reasons. She listened. And finally said, "I felt bad about the fact that you didn't say anything this time until I prodded you."
"I don't always have to respond. I am not obligated to, am I?" he snapped back.
"No, you're not obligated to," she said.
"So what's all the fuss about then?" he said with his eyebrows raised and his hands deep inside his pockets.
"That's the whole point... I never wanted you to feel obligated to do anything... I always thought you expressed yourself spontaneously and that's the only thing that kept me going... that sprung the little things to life... because they made you express yourself without restraint and only because you wanted to. If it was obligation I was looking for, I wouldn't be knocking at your door."
She jumped off the ledge and dusted the back of her pants before walking away. And with each step she took, she felt a tiny, nondescript, insignificant and intangible little thing leave her soul. She held her fingers up to her face... all the lines on them had disappeared, even her palms were blank and smooth.
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