Look up, see.

When the last full moon comes out, I’ll think about you. It will push the other me out. The stars will look down on me, they’ll wink at me, they’ll laugh at me. I’ll look down.

Am I delusional or am I infatuated. If I’m delusional then I’m crazy. I’m in love because I’ve never known infatuation. I could dwell in my own world, one of bliss, little fulfillment but I need her to fill the void.

Trailing her, to see the gate to which she enters after Studies. Practicing how best to say hi or just to wave, has me doubting my sanity. Confessions to everyone that cares to listen about her cute legs and perfect smile.

I need to start appreciating my attraction to her than pine about the approach gone wrong that I’m even too shy to try out. To love is the sweetest feeling. I always wanted to believe.

I’m just guessing, numbers and fingers. Figuring her puzzles out. Her pretty face piling endless levels. Her heart, one I haven’t minded to know more about. One that could be good but seems to be coated by the deviation that is beauty. A pretty face. The perfect smile. The invisible shell that is hardly there but keeps us away.

A prime assumption is that consciousness the inner sense of awareness like the sound of Gershwin or the smell of garlic depends on the beholder. Why can’t I see that? Why?

The evening breeze sounded like a sigh, hand in hand I walked her home. It had been five hours and thirty seven minutes. We had sat on the see-saw talking, nothing on the surface of the earth hadn’t been touched.

Her mum was the best baker in town, her sister couldn’t even boil an egg but had Rembrandt’s fingers. She could paint her soul out and more. You would need to brake extra hard whenever in her Dad’s car and just a chocolate fudge for the baby sister.

How did I get here? The gate that had been the only thing close to her I had talked to and treasured all of a sudden was irrelevant. I had talked to Sandra. That was it. The ground could swallow me now. I no longer had regrets. I had lived a fruitful life.

The little things in life avail you with the biggest treasures. My best friend dialed my number, the phone rung. I had hesitated to talk to him. I knew what he wanted, it could wait. After all, he was my best person in the world.

That morning I had changed my ringtone to Realise | Colbie Caillat. It was my reset button. I was drowning in self pity. I needed a clean slate.

As the phone rung, the guitar in the ringtone educed a faint glow on her face “Oh my God, what song is that?” as she left her friends strolling towards me. I felt two very cold rivulets of sweat down  my armpits.

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“Hi stranger, do you mind?” handing me her earphones. She loved the song, she liked my collection. She just looked at me. She must have seen the tension all over me, I was chocking on unease.

“Hey, come let’s go sit via that balcony. I won’t leave without borrowing your music.” “I also won’t leave without getting your name.” finally finding my voice after swallowing a huge globule of saliva.

Of course I knew her name, in truth I knew the names of all her distant relatives. And their relatives’ relatives. “I am Sandra, you?” “I am El, but the ones that love me call me Amanya.” “Well Amanya it will be.”

I gave her my blazer, it was cold, she gave me a soft ‘thank you, you’re so caring!’ I melted. It would be from the balcony to the see-saw. It would be five hours and thirty something minutes, it would later be an every evening thing. To the local park, the waters of the nearby lake, church, we went together. We became friends. We became more than friends.

It would be three years, It changed me forever. It changed us. I still believe in love, I believe in real love. I enjoy star gazing. I cherish holding hands. For when the first full moon shines, I’ll think about you. I’ll look up. I’ll see.

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4 thoughts on “Look up, see.

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