Love is that thing which engulfs you in bear-hug and embrace. You couldn't push it away, sometimes, you don't want it?, and neither do you wish to get out of it while it lasts... It takes you from the desert - the hot sands, where you are perpetually thirsty with no hope of living water- to the sandy beaches...
You sit on the beach, dip your fingers into the sands, the same sands of the dessert, but, it feels different- cooler. You rummage with your palm, and come up with the sands. You clench your fists around it. Yes, this is it, you are sure you have it, yet you open your fists, and everything slips away. It remains with dust, which you never want anyway. You bring up the other hand and dust it... You hiss, confused. You hiss again... Then, isn't love confusing? No, it shouldn't be. You can't afford it to be. Therefore...
2
You look in front of you (you are still on the beach); you see the point at which the sky merges with the sea. Yes, you want to get to that point.To get there and hide in the Eldorado caves. Maybe, just maybe, it lies just after that point. Suppose you are a strong swimmer and you reckon it shouldn't take more than a hundred strokes to get there. You start out, one stroke, two strokes. 'This seems so easy, why hadn't someone thought to do it before... ' you think aloud. Forty strokes, you are gradually getting there- eighty strokes, you look up, then you realize... there must have been a mistake with you calculations somewhere because, now it seems you have about two hundred more strokes to go. Well, you think, no problems, it's worth it. You continue- two hundred strokes! Apprehension, serious doubt, confusion... Trouble, panic- because what you see in front of you is more like five hundred strokes!' Now that's impossible. But let's see how much farther I can go'. You tell yourself, and you continue. In strength, you are getting tired but not weak in spirit and mind.
3
Ouch! You realize yourself, but, it's too late... you wake up in this strange room - white-all around, drips and other paraphernalia to help you breath or do the slightest thing - (obviously, some powerful hand of providence had saved you).' where am I?' you ask. 'How did I get here?' you ask again.
No answer... and you remember everything... oh, isn't love an illusion?
No, it is not, because...
4
You have been waiting for her, in the middle of nowhere. She's late as usual. The bitch, no, the ANGEL, bless her... But, trust her to keep you waiting when she was the one who fixed the time in the first place. You are still waiting, you bring out her picture, you smile... 'Isn't She the most beautiful?' You think to yourself. Wait. Didn't somebody, I mean people, say She's ugly? No, you couldn't believe that. And they say too that love is blind! Blind?! No you are sure both of you can see clearly. Well, you guess, maybe they are the ones who are blind because our love is not blind at all. You conclude. Satisfied, you pace up and down, anxious... 'But, where the hell is She?' or 'She wants to stand me up again like she did the other time?' You wonder ruefully. You are becoming agitated, and from nowhere she surfaces. One smile and you feel cool, no longer annoyed. The world is okay; all critics can go to blazes. Your heartbeat increases, quickens, no, races, as you step forward to embrace her... isn't love beautiful?
Isn't love a reality, realistic, or the real of all realities? Not necessarily. But...
5
You have known her all your life. No, no stories, no histories either- 'life is way too short... what matters is what we have done with the time allotted, and the present... ' that sounds like her in those days... Yeah; and you've realized too that it's a good byline to live by. At least it seems to have always worked though...
Yes, the present...
You were going twenty years strong thinking of what to present her for the friendship, the companionship, the love, caring, everything... gone too soon...
It's your fiftieth anniversary. The children, grand and great grand-everyone- would be coming for the big one... one morning - three days to the D-day, She complains of a slight headache. Isn't she always having aches? - Toothache, leg ache, backache, finger ache, even hair ache! You are an accomplished Engineer, but you have become a part-time doctor because of her, poor child (poor child at eighty!).
You check yourself. No, is this what they call being senile? At least when it seems you are constantly finding it hard to keep your thoughts together...
6
You rush to your room, the one you've both shared for fifty years, bring out the chest of drugs and you come out of the room to meet her sprawled on the sofa. One look at her and you get the inevitable message... she's gone, finally, forever... you pace up and down, comes around to sit by the window looking into oblivion. The children, grand children, and even the great grand children, all curl around you, consoling. You see them without seeing. Of course, you know that the hour is near...
Of course, the GATE! You remember, you have promised each other you were going to get there at the same time.Whoever gets there first must wait for the other... No you can't afford that she should wait for too long... You call one of your grand kids to help tickle your legs, they feel numb. Before he comes back there, you have slipped- a veil drops on your eyes.
You are floating, waving them goodbye. You also see your body, it's now your former body, lifeless on that same sofa. 'Can't they see you are waving them goodbye?'Less concerned, you head your own way, still floating...
The GOLDEN GATE... You really wish to meet her before she gets there, at least she must not wait for too long... Isn't love the ultimate... ?
Yes, it can be, for those who are willing to try, as many times as it
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