Another love story

hands heart love


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I loved the feel of his hands on my body. Every touch seemed like a caress. The first time he laid eyes on me, his eyes seemed on fire. I had the freshness of a newly bud flower then. Oh, and what a joy it had been, to spend those few days together, escaping the world and all its burdens, the usual responsibilities of the mundane life. But I should have known better. I knew he was the sorts whose heart wouldn’t be attached to just one. He wasn’t the monogamous sorts.

He would always say, “How can I love just one, when there are so many worthy of being loved, of being cherished? How can I say, you are the closest to my heart, when each of the others I have held has a special place in my heart? How can I stop desiring others, when every one of them has something beautiful to offer and has their own quirky personality?”

I should’ve known then, not to give my heart to him. To heed the warning bells, that with time, I would be seen as a trophy that was conquered too. Something to be shown off to friends and family, but eventually forgotten, when the new shiny, fresh one, came into his life. And that happened so very often.

Soon there were so many of us in his home. He said he loved each one of us, and had enjoyed his time with each one of us. Sometimes that made us smile, and sometimes it made us hurt like hell. Then there were those rare days when he would look at us and remember something. That would spark his curiosity all over again. And on those rare occasions, one of us would get to re-live that touch, that passion, that he had for us in the initial courtship period. But when there were so many distractions, it was hard to have days like those, when we could re-live our time together.

I made friends with the others living with me. We would talk about our lives. In a way we were immortal, we outlived most human-kind. It depended on our owner too. If they loved us, as lovers do, then we would live longer. But if we were bought on a whim or a fancy, or presented, then, we would perish sooner than our usual age. We depended on the care of our owner for our beauty. So there was a lot of time for us in the hands of a good owner, such as his, and so we would whisper to each other when the sun set, careful not to disturb him from his precious slumber. We would talk about our lives, how we came to be, how he noticed us the first time, and our time with him. We would worry about our future, but other than him, our friendship was all that each of us had. Since we could never have a family.

I looked at them standing next to each other. So beautiful, so precious. I couldn’t bear to part with any of them, I was obsessed with each of them. I still remember the way it had felt to hold them in my hands the first time. Those first few days, when I could inhale their unique scent, when I would touch them almost reverentially, when we would spend time together and forget about the rest of the world. Some of them had hurt me, some made me cry, some angry, some made me laugh till I had tears in my eyes. And so, I was in love with each of them. I sometimes wondered, if they got lonely there, but I hoped that they had each other for company at least.

It was hard to resist the exciting and new ones though. I had spent a lot of money on the ones I had, but it was like a passion that I couldn’t satiate with just one. The more I had, the more I wanted. I didn’t want to call it an addiction, because they made me so happy. They made my relationships better, they made me better, and they made this dreary world a better place to live in. They inspired me, and gave me direction and hope, when nothing else seemed to work. They taught me how to love, and how to cherish. So no, I will not say I was addicted to them. I was in love with them. I loved them all, equally. I was passionate about them. I didn’t want to part with any of them, but the need to make space in my life for the new ones that were coming in later today, made it necessary that I decide, which of them should go.

So I looked at each of them again, reliving my time with each of them. I wanted to touch them all again. I wanted to smell their scent, even if they had become old and yellow now. It was hard being a lover who loved them all with so much passion. But I wouldn’t just throw them away, like trash. They deserve dignity and love. Each one of them, that I choose to give away today, should be cherished exactly the same way that I had cherished them. And so, I had worked hard in finding new owners for each of them. I knew where their new homes would be, so that in future, if I wanted to visit them again, I’d know where to find them.

I’m so happy he chose this home for me and a few other friends that he had to let go of! I couldn’t believe my luck. When he chose me, I felt as if my heart was going to break into a million pieces. I wanted to disappear into oblivion. I thought, it might as well be, since who else could love me like he did? But I was so wrong. I had judged him and hadn’t realized how sensitive he was, to our feelings and our needs. Even after all these years.

I am almost giddy with excitement. Now, I’m not stuck to just one home. I have a new admirer almost every week, ready to devour me. Oh, hear comes a new owner for this week..oh hello, darling! I think, with a smile.

Oh my gosh, you have to read this one! It’s one of my favorites and is simply beautiful!”, said Raima to her friend Meera.

Meera picked up the old copy of Anne of Green Gables and almost felt her heart skip a beat. It was almost as if the book had smiled at her. She smiled back at the book and thanked all the people who donated their old books to the local library, so that children like her could read more often and fall in love with books.

@Prachi tried putting something in together for a writing prompt and would love your feedback! 😊

 

 

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