21/7/2018 0 Comments buzzcut kingStory'em His eyes. Such beautiful eyes. Streaks of purple, grey and green. A buzz cut king. An unequivocal beauty. Bold in gestures but a feathered grip shared secrets of his true textures. Loving, kind and loyal.
He’d say, “Oh. Why you look lovely today” surprised I made efforts in seek of his praise. Took me out on divinely splendid unexpected afternoon dates. Out of my cubicle. Out of my walls. Knew I didn’t have a dime but dragged me along even when I clawed. I loved him quietly. Silently. Suspecting I did a good job. But who could hide from his rude glare. Bolting me in place, demanding obedience incomparable. Unexpected flatter when added to his Gram. Grin stupid like a blushed waving smiley, finally making it to his Whatsapp status. Peek an hour later and all traces of me gone, must have been a mirage. Run through it one more time to find twitter feeds, memes and quotes? Damn, I really am not on. Smiling mildly thinking, must’ve took it down for a clean slate. Chin up Ma. Wrong time up. Wrong line up. One day I’ll make the 24 hour markup… just you wait. Inbox me troubled, made it priority to come through. All I could offer was the truth. Wiping fears, “They don’t define you.” remind him, “Mistakes are lessons in participation. You are a King. Never question your place. I got you.” Be there for the next time and the next time and the next. On my turn, I reached out hesitant faith remnant. Open haven arms reached out to huddle me. Cuddled in mantra “Everything is going to be okay.” I tucked in. Feeling him close. Let him close. Spooning my back. It warmed me. Layers of cold dispelled from me. Believing the power of friendship in ‘we’. But a time came. An unexpected ending of a fairy tale strained, when these hands became too familiar for him to feel safe. Offered to carry his bags to share the task, “Nah. It’s cool, I can pull my own weight.” Stepping’s loaded to show how much I care, encountered impact, inaudible slaps shaking the very core of my weight. But always holding on to that promised faith. Until finally I heard the last of his courtesy “You ACT like you know everything. But you don’t know everything”. Heart in my lungs. Once welcomed, now a poison. Useful only when it suited him, only when it soothed him. It rings louder of how he used them. Noticing the cracks too late our shells had fallen, weathered and dusted. Pieces lost in the wind. Our ship was faulted. Not wanting have to stay. No more strength to sink in pain. How small I must have looked through his eyes. His beautiful eyes. Purple, grey and green. Buzz cut king, I wish I knew how to be better for him.
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