”Look around. Do you see the Blur? Its a book-eh of a million hues. The colorful crowd around. The people around you now, this very second; look at them. Each one, they have a hue. No matter what they are wearing, their age, color or attractive or un attractiveness, they have a hue. They shine that way. They radiate their unique energy of their own story. The story that only they know. behind their eyes which try to screen their vulnerability. Beyond their wrinkles, each one for every crease in their story; a hurdle that they crossed. Your story, the one that no one wants to hear. Yes, that one. Yes, it is important. I want to hear it, do you? Do you want to hear yourself say the story?”
”Where do I start? Should I start from the past? A blinding flashes of memories. Rain. Mango tree. My Grandparents. Lonesomeness.”
”No, not there.”
”Okay I want to be independent. Successful-”
”who are you? What have you studied? Physics?
Do you remember the principle of reversibility of light?”
”Yeah; relevance? ”
”Your story is a ray of light. the results being unchanged by the reversibility of the point of origin or the destination. The hero or villain is subjective. You being correct or incorrect is subjective to your point of reference. So stories of the past are frail as they are but fallen leaves. your future is volatile. You are -”
”Sweetheart no not the white light please..”He wound his strong arms around me, enveloping me. All the protection that I though I needed once. The one I felt was enough to keep me going. I didn’t realize who I actually needed..
“Sorry babe. Gotta make the model. why don’t you..”
I got up and walked into the bathroom. The large mirror with droplets of salt. the continuous vortex of travertine. There I saw her again. I hadn’t seen her this way before, like it was the very first time. Her eyes, they weren’t beautiful, but they had an air of defiance. A sarcasm. I liked that. Her nose innocent like a deer’s. Her lips, plush, anyone would want to kiss them. They spoke of her sensuality, her passion, her femininity. Her jaw framed it all, razor sharp, confident by the angle it made with the horizon. Her chin held up high. This person, in her black razer back and waist length beautiful mess of waves was talking to me.
” You are now. The form you take this moment. The emotions that runs through your blood this second. Tell me about that. how do you feel?”
That’s how I met her, after months of ignorance. That’s how I met myself.