As I lay on my bed with my mind filled with the memories I had created with him, a small smile crept onto my face. I remembered the way his dreamy, brown eyes looked at me on 3rd March, two days after I had confessed my feelings to him. My mind got pulled to the evening of 1st March again.
I wanted to say so many things to him— millions and millions of words, thousands and thousands of phrases, hundreds of sentences and oceans of my unsaid confessions. He experienced and got to know about the top part of the ice berg in the Arctic Ocean, while my feelings remained as the huge bottom part of the ice berg, still submerged in the cold waters, were hidden. I knew that all my feelings, emotions and confessions which I had made in just a year would take many years to actually coin them all together and give voice to the unsaid locked up admissions.
My hands were shaking as I held the phone in them, yet it felt like I could breathe again, as if awarded with another life that was filled with love and an acceptance of my own self. All the feelings of my love for him that had grown with each passing second contained in the previous year which I had kept confined within the walls of my heart felt like they were a million stars that were floating around in this endless cosmos of life, neither bragged about, nor showed off, were just kept close to one self. I compressed the feelings which felt like endless oceans travelling upto to miles and miles of distances into just three words in that evening of that auspicious day.
19:06 p.m.
"I love you."
Three words. Just three words which carried the weight of feelings built over all the three converings of my heart. My heart started pounding, the air felt freezing, and in this situation, suddenly all the negative possibilities flooded my mind.
What if he rejects my confession? What if he says that I ruined our friendship? What if he thought of me just as a friend? What if he did not want to get into any matter of love? What if I am ruining everything we have just by letting my feelings out? What if he is unsure whether I should be the lucky person or not? Many more what if questions raced through my thoughts. The three dots appeared, disappeared, and then reappeared. Just then a text popped up which caused my breath to get caught in my throat.
19:07 p.m.
"I love you tooo"
Present day,
A smile crept up my lips as I remembered the exact text which he had sent me. 'I love you tooo'. A too with three 'o's. I remember that bit to bit. I did not know about the reaction which had formed on his face, but I remember dancing around in my room and muffling my screams of joy and happiness. I opened my eyes and looked around at the empty room which was still decorated with furniture, adorned with the ray of light which had filtered into the dark room. The place of deprived of joy and happiness. Complete silence, but the silence was not peaceful. The silence was loud, shouting back and mocking my way of living— the way I am still unable to move on from the person I saw my life with, the way I always see his face from the corner of my eye though he is never present in the vision of my imaginary world, the way I feel like I am betraying him when ever I talk to other guys, the way he is still the muse to the poet I am, the way is he is still the topic of every creative structure I write, the way I still think about him every time I see, even a picture, of a BMW car, the way I still see his expressions, his reactions and his facial features whenever anything happens in my life, as if remembering the way HE would react if he knew about any of those happenings.
His actions, his voice, his words, his expressions, everything still echoes in my mind like a life line of my own.
I got up from my bed and stared at the diary that was placed on the bed side table. It was a diary which contains each and every phrase that I ever wanted to whisper to him, which remained as some unsaid confessions, unheard echoes and silent voices which reverberated in my mind again and again. The diary contains a fantasy— a fable, a dream, a wish I could call my own— some unfulfilled, desirable and hidden phrases of my own. It contains a story which I wanted to narrate and shout to the entire world, letting everyone know about this love story of mine. I reached out and grabbed the diary off the table with shaky hands. A page was marked with the bookmark of the withered rose which was gifted by him. On turning to the marked page, I saw the lines I had written as a wish of mine. A wish that I knew black magic. A wish that I prayed would come true in this life, atleast once.
I wish I knew black magic...I would make a pen with which anything I write would glow and everything I highlight would come true...I would write my name with yours and the whole world would know about our love...I would write your name on the sky and all the stars would envy the beauty... I would write your name in the sand, the waves would whisper your glory...I would write your name in the sea and all the storms would be calm because they too would be captivated by its grace...I wish you could give me your love even if its fake...shower me with your fake love and I would cherish it... Let's get wet in the rain, the thunder, the storm... I hope I knew black magic...I would write your name with mine and you'd become mine, forever... My heart would beat the same beat as yours... my soul would know only you... my body would crave only your touch... my mind would fill with only your thoughts... I would be truly and completely yours, in every sense...I would write 'love' and you fall for me completely...
The wish had come true. It was my fault to include that the wish would come true once... The wish had become the truth, but only once.