Dear reader, with all due respect, this is a work of fiction. Every character, event, place are fictitious. If, and only if, some information disputes the above mentioned statement, I advise you to not read any further.
Glistening.
She was pretty, pretty to start with: slender curves, sleek if I may; naive and blank smirks; a very rigid and perplexing identity. She was, without any stain of doubt, the epitome of flawlessness. But there’s just this one catch, we haven’t met yet.
Nostalgic as it may seem, I’ve only hit puberty to start things with. She came strolling inside our class with her enigmatic atmosphere and boisterous laugh, with a white cardigan on and a pretty smile to match. I wasn’t attracted to her almond eyes and batting lashes, her gloss tinted lips, her candle-like fingers, her freckled and elastic skin, and her towering yet firm legs; until words escaped her lips. I found her profoundly amusing, to tell you the truth. She sat across the room, but was indubitably proximal.
An LCD-display scientific calculator was always sandwiched in between her books and I, at that time, found that impressive. I was ambivalent of her, to tell you honestly. There were times when I felt utmost frustrations for her, and there were moments when I fell hard for her. As exacting and demanding as she was, I felt inadequate and inferior for her.
Summer came marching in and we went separate ways, bearing the fact that I haven’t bid her farewell, and that was that. Just like that.
Time is fleeting, but is promising.
Years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds have passed, but I haven’t seen her yet. To tell you the truth, a lot have passed but nothing came close to her. There were that came with varying shapes and sizes, in diverse forms and puzzling contours; then there were that came with different angles possessing beauties, quasi Egyptian complexion if I may; then there were that came with figures enticing, and yet unlike her. And with these, I voided the space allotted for her in my existence. Then she came back, unannounced.
Blue to red is acid.
Her innocent and sweet smile was altered to a crimson and devilish grin; I wasn’t prepared for such feat honestly. She put on a lot of weight, to tell you the truth. Her gravity was pulling me down, with every inch of her being. I was trying to pull myself out, but died trying.
She favoured red, this came in no surprise. It’s not that I was anticipating something like this, but I was anticipating.
She seemed distant, always expressing a blank perusal, and yet we were juxtaposed to one another. With this, I examined her thoroughly; her face was filled with lines but was concealed by layers of paint, the smile that was intoxicating turned out inversely, and her vivid personality was boxed by a tough and craggy exterior. She changed, as a matter of fact.
I fell short due to expectations, but was surprised of how things between us proved all of my assumptions erroneous. She was incognito with her dealings, and I found that amazing. She told me she wouldn’t be of any importance now, her help I meant, but will attest a greater benefit when the right time comes. Without a doubt, if my memories serve me right, she was there when I toiled fervently for my thesis; she was there from the start.
Bury the dead.
“I’ll be there when they crash and burn, I’ll be there when they become deranged, I’ll be there for sure”.
She wasn’t telling a joke when she said that, she was there; charting and grouping, lining and calculating, extracting and exacting. She has this formula, her personal formula, for life. Constructing and constricting, she scrutinized every aspect of my life, yours as well. She’s, a matter of fact, here, there, and everywhere; a tangible explanation for day by day basis, a creative one if I may.
The road not taken by will.
I’m far from dawning and near from falling, but she’ll be waiting without a doubt. As she had said to me, indifferently intimate, she’d help me. Help was an understatement perhaps.
She’d be of disposal to whatever extent I may wish to; anytime, anywhere. But what disturbs me most is her oath: even at my chosen career, she’ll be there; charting and grouping, lining and calculating, extracting and exacting, and there she will be.
To start with, she was pretty.
My comment in his Note: I must say, you were goooooood! To have me glued reading till the very last word was an achievement in itself. I usually skip when reading Notes here on Facebook. But this one's different. Really. Thumbs up for you, hopeless romantic.
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