FOURTH OF JULY

                       

               

Sourced from Word Porn on Facebook

                She was there. You were there. She waited a sudden moment until you came to pass her. She looked at you straightly with your hands on your pockets, clearly having your way out from those movable barriers with all other students struggling to go out of the scene, but you just walked calmly as you passed those metal barriers and as far as she could remember the whole occurrence, she stayed at your back auditing every bit of information that can be seen from your behind. From the most undulating motions of your hands way down to your walking, your gesticulating arms at your sides, she noticed everything. She had seen the whole thing that was noticeable from her senses. She thought he was marked by being decent in his most viable ways and that was the moment when she realized, she was contented seeing him from the view of his behind.  He was damned perfect as she uttered with a great resemblance of him. She promised from that day on that he will be the one whom she confessed with all reassurances. She never asserted her sight until he was gone over passing the crowded town. She kept on walking. She kept on remembering. The rain started pouring. Everybody was in the focus on how to escape, but she was still thinking of him, remembering those sudden moments where all the distances between them were just an inches away and how she terribly wants to fill those inches with such great console, but still it was just her thoughts; thoughts that were rooted along the river of nothingness. It was all nothing in the nick of time and will only be lived in her memory in due time.

            As the things went pretty well and way back in her consciousness, it was her thoughts that take a trip for a moment. Heavy rains were approaching as she had gotten her umbrella and walked until she reached the last street when she found out that he was there standing at the store patiently waiting for the rain to stop. Her heart kept on beating too loud as if it can be heard by anyone. She was rooted on the ground and wondering if she would approach him or not; offer him some buzz in her umbrella. She counted off each second; each steps with her heart bawling, with her knees knocking that were ready to fall out at any time in the moment. She remembered everything. She recognized the whole bunch of scene as it vastly barged in to her senses. She counted off once more.

5…

4…

3…

2

Finally, she fished out her guts from her depth seas and put up to assert him. Well, she doesn’t feel any disappointment as he allowed her to be in. She thought that was the most irreplaceable, incredibly unexplainable moment of her. He picked up the umbrella and they continued walking with unstoppable rain pouring. They walked with some of the passerby teasing them but they continued to walk.

She looked at him with smiles; he looked at her with a great content of happiness. She has seen it and was happy knowing they both wanted it to be true. They wanted to cross the boundaries, they can and they will. Those days were the worth remembering ones and she wanted to go back then to where it was, not to change those, but to experience it again, to try if he still be her love for once. In due time, they will be.

(Five years had gone fast and with a great degree of ecstatic happiness, she will never forget these sceneries.) 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“If I were a carpenter, I would build you a window to my soul. But I would leave that window shut and locked, so that every time you tried to look through it all you would see is your own reflection. You would see that my soul is a reflection of you.” 
― Colleen Hoover, Point of Retreat