Page 110 - You Only Live Once [BooksLD]

worked on myself and discovered my love for comedy. It happened for the
good. Let bygones be bygones.’

‘Why did she have to remind you of your passion? What held you back
earlier?’
‘I am the youngest kid in the family. My parents decided to have me ten
years after my elder sister. My father is going to retire before I complete

college. I just have some responsibilities and so the internship at the bank is
something I continue to keep.’
‘Do you still love her?’

‘I loved her until I met you.’ My feet go cold and my head goes numb. I
am not ready for another rejection yet. But I let out the truth in the nick of
time.

She moves her face closer to mine and closes her eyes. This moment is
something I have been waiting for days now. I move forward and kiss her.
A perfect kiss seldom happens under the perfect circumstances. A perfect
kiss is unplanned, extremely passionate.

As I lie next to her, I ponder upon every inch of her body. She does not
look perfect. I discover. There are scars on her back. But it’s utterly crazy
how none of it matters to me. I still want to kiss her - especially the scars,
each one of them, one by one. There is something so intense I feel for those
scars. I can almost feel the pain that she must have gone through when she
got them in the first place. I want to whisper it into her ears, ‘None of it

matters to me.’
And I know that they’re not the only scars. There are some that she hides
behind that smile. I know they did hurt her at a point in her life, and some

of them continue to haunt her. I whisper into her ears, ‘None of it matters to
me.’
This is what love does to you. It makes you look beyond what you see.
Above all, it makes you look beyond what others can see!

As she directs me while we make love, her voice isn’t soothing, but often
commanding and strong. Unlike her, I sing awfully. But the conversations
that we have, you and I, stay in my head, beautiful like the images ingrained
on stones of a heritage building. Your words are like pieces of art that cling

to the walls of my heart. And yes, I want you to talk to me all this time.