Part 1/4: Under the Cherry Blossom tree

Every night going through the same pages of her diary, she would turn it upside down making sure to keep it close to herself and then pulling the sheets all over her, she would try to sleep. But the sleep was not that easy to come to her. She would wipe her eyes and nose one after the other, roll sideways and wait for at least an iota of wave to drift her heavy body away from all of the pain she was in.
“I know if I won’t read those words again and again, it won’t be as hard for me to sleep,” she would mutter the same sentence each night and tie a knot of commitment with herself that she would refrain from going near that diary, at least at night as if daytime wasn’t enough a bother for her that she took all her worries to the night too when in fact she should be resting at that time.
And then slowly in that state of despair her brain would fill up with thoughts just like a container is filled with water. At first it touches the base, then slowly building it’s way up to the middle and then the top and even after the container is filled, the commotion in it doesn’t stop. It takes a while for all molecules to reach a standstill. And then while they are in process of settling, there is another commotion as a scoop is taken out for quenching thirst of the thirsty.
Her thirst however was unquenchable, hence her container was always in commotion.
It had all happened too quickly. It was as if yesterday she sat with him on a cold bench one chilly night, under that cherry blossom tree whose baby pink and milky white petals flew in the air making the scene ever more beautiful than it already was.

They sat close to one another even though it was their first encounter, at least in physical sense. Surprisingly none of them was nervous as their relationship was the most comfortable one. Even when they talked over the social media/phone/texts, they felt as if they were present in front of one another physically and that is why that day they didn’t find their stomachs churning, their hands sweating or their legs shaking.
They had at first taken a walk holding hands. His’s were warmer than her’s. Or was it the opposite? It didn’t matter because they were on the same temperature. The temperature of love.
The unique aspect of their relationship was that they looked at love from a very unconventional seat.
“I don’t know what love truly is like,” he said when at first he expressed his feelings to her.
“I think we can never know what it is truly in a short span of time we human beings live on this earth,” she added her opinion.
He agreed with her.
“If I find at least 5 of the hidden secrets of love in my lifetime, I think I will die a content life.”
She appreciated his genuine and realistic struggle and hoped it would become possible for them both.
On that cold bench, they had looked into each other’s eyes longingly for quite a long time before saying anything. They let their eyes speak for themselves because God didn’t create the limbs to support us physically only but each one of them had a emotional and spiritual aspect to them too. We both were firm believers of the latter and had named them “The silent talkers” and we were using one of it right then through our eyes .
What they were thinking at that time was not comprehensible merely through that silent talker but it was like the stage that is set before the performance. These silent talkers are like the props of a stage that once set for the performance are used till the end.

“I adore you.” he spoke first.
“I am fond of you.” she whispered.

They refrained from using the word “love” or the sentence “I love you” because they had heard those sentences in movies and real life too and the endings sometimes didn’t make sense. So until they had managed to find the answers they were looking for, they decided not to use this word. They had not really decided but their words were speaking of themselves. The immaculate level of understanding between the two of them kept everything in flow.



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