Rare moments

In the summer of 2009, when I was grown up but still like a kid, I met the man of my dreams. When we walked hand in hand through the streets of the city of love, I could sense the tingling in his hand. I could see how much I was attached to his breath, his feel, his presence. I was incessantly in love with this guy. A stranger to me, but a stranger close to my heart.

It was not by any coincidence or luck that I found him, and he found me. It was like as if the meeting was written in golden words in the book of god, which drove every other person mad, like it drove us. We were in some different world of our existence; we co-existed with our hearts on our sleeves. We were up to something, which we didn’t realise was nothing but love.

We were together for the summer holidays in Verona. We met because we lived in the same hotel. I was a lonely girl exploring the world. He was a lonely traveller enjoying his solace.

 It was very beautiful to see the sunrise from my balcony, the streets used to light up with the early morning sun and it marked the fresh start of my morning with tea in hand and street vendors putting up their sales.  Italy is known for the local market area and its varied sale.

I don’t know how and what actually brought us together. The balcony talks, or the eye to eye talks J we sat for breakfast together once in the hotel cafe and that was the first day we went out together for our exploration of the city of love.

Since day one, I have been eager like a fish to swim in the whole pond; you like a whale were the sharp big hunter. I don’t remember anything about Italy now; it was beautiful I do remember that, but not just the city the feel of being with you. I never asked you about your love, nor did you. Maybe it’s just that I have got used to being with you. Roaming around the whole city was delight because I was no more a lonely girl. Inside your eyes I still could see the distant feel, the vision of a lonely traveller. It was just a phase I thought, but sooner I realised it was constant. You were looking for your heaven.

You were not a typical American man with those rugged looks and funky manners. You were different from those, whom you lived with. That was the reason may be why you started being alone and also were enjoying it. I didn’t know what happened at the end of these few days, I was feeling as if I was leaving my heaven and going. A British girl like me would never dare fall for an American. But the twisted fate has always something else. 

It was now late in the summers. Tomorrow would be the time for us to leave this city. I’ll get back to my studies in England and you would continue on your journey to Rome. You always said that you were a traveller, because you met people, made them yours and left and moved ahead. You never stopped in your life. And you didn’t know how to love. Missing someone was a mere word, with no other real meaning than just the absence of something. When I said, “I’ll always remember you” last evening, your face was expressionless. You were doing your job wandering through this world for your heaven. But I had just found mine. It was you.

Next day when I was leaving the hotel, you stood in front of me; I did not want to meet you. You came closer; you looked like a star in that dark. You came closer and our lips met. That was the first and last of our journey together. It was over. 

I never had the nerve to tell you this. Nor I did. I left Verona and I left my love to wander for his heaven. I didn’t even expect you to come to me sometime again in life. I knew it was meant to be just this. And that was it.

-Writer

I don’t know where this guy is. I don’t know if he found his heaven. I never ever had any news about him since the time I left Verona that summer. And I don’t even want to find out. It was beautiful, it was a real feeling, it had no expectations, no fulfilments and no obligations. It was true and it was love.

As I finish writing my article for the newspaper tonight, I relive those rare moments in my mind’s eye. Those streets of the city of love, those historical stories and his presence. I am just wishing that the people won’t ask many questions on my first article ever. I hope so because, I have no answers, and I’ll never have. I have chosen to leave it this way.