There are a thousand words of Love

image

A day dedicated to love is not limited to romantic relationships.”

Authors note :
Or in this case, yours truly’s note:

Happy valentines day ♡♡♡ Or S.A.D (single awareness day) my comrades. Whichever you prefer. I decided to crawl out of my hole which I had been pitted into for months to give you a very hearty valentine greetings. So for a change, I am not introducing a book. I’m just gonna post a short story about love, first love, lost love, happy love. Whatever directions it takes is still love.
This story has no title, I just this wrote this out of this days celebrations. And I hope you like it.

I smiled sadly as I glanced at the television, the channel was open on some entertainment news. Lately it was the talk of the town.  A member of a K-pop boy bond is getting married to a writer.  I stopped in the middle of the almost empty room and watched her happily smiling at him. Her hazel glowing of happiness for the whole world to see. As if she had finally found a home and that’s all that matters. Looking at the man beside her, I could see that he feels the same way. The camera had capture the moment they looked at each other’s eyes and one could clearly tell they are the world for each other.
  A dull thud in me was trying to break out, I sighed and went inside my room. Boxes where stalked one after the other my room was almost empty except for the fully winter armed bed.
Moving is really bothersome but I needed to do it. The university I was hired was too far from my current address. So it’s either waking up so damn early in the morning or moving. Obviously I had chosen the latter.
Too cramped for my own convenience I didn’t see the small box lying near my feet as I walked around the boxes towards my bed. It was too late, I had kicked it spilling all the contents on the already small room.
Pictures where scattered everywhere. This were frames I had taken as a hobby in my college days. The box was full of them I bent down to pick them up when something caught my attention.
A photo. I smiled as I picked it up from the ground. So it was  here all this time, he thought he had lost this.
If he remember it correctly, that day this photo was taken started out just like any normal day. Or at least a very normal day in that beach. Being on that tiny island off the pacific would give someone a feel like you are in another perfect world altogether.
I remember waking up early wanting to catch the sunrise. I was planning to add the shots I would get on this trip on my project so I grabbed my camera and run down the beach. Here and there I saw people exercising early in the morning, couples walking down the beach hoping to catch the beautiful scenery at the breaking of the dawn.
I was a bit too early so I decided to walk do some much needed exercise while waiting. Remembering back then, I was too much into it that the next thing I remember was seeing a summer house at the very end of that tiny island. I knew it was a private property, the tour lady was telling our group not to venture out too far to the left side of the island. It was a privately owned.

So I just stood there out in the open not knowing what to do. I could jog back again but curiosity got the better of me. I stared at the little gorgeous green tiled house. The house was glass walled so I could clearly see what’s inside despite the light given by the barely roused sun.  My brows went into a line as my eyes adjusted in the dark. The house was weird, rails were seen everywhere as if the owner needed a guide into the entire house. And he was sure he saw a vase taped into a wall? Or did he just imagine that?
Questions popping into my head was cut short when I saw a figure opening the glass door leading to the wide deck.
Ah, I see. I thought to myself. That’s what the railing is for and that taped vase for that matter. The woman who walked out of that door was blind. Or I think she is. Is it the latest fashion to day to wrap a simple white cloth around your eyes this days? Did I spend too much time that in my dark room to miss such turn of trends?
I looked at her, my original intention forgotten. I watched her walk towards the deck her fingers lightly touching the rails, tracing her way there. I was rooted on my spot like an idiot looking at her. Something about her made me want to just stand there and watched her.
Thinking back then, I must have looked like a stalker creepily standing in the middle of beach staring at her. I sighed.
The woman was beautiful that’s for sure. Not the drop dead gorgeous, exotic, Victoria’s secret model kind of beauty but a classic simple beauty. A beauty that would remain unaffected by the savages of time.

I stood silent, watching her. The sun finally peeking in the horizon. A light smile formed in her lips as the rays of the sun gently hit her. The light wind blowing away her dark long locks, her dress swaying along with the morning breeze. She leaning forward into the railings. I saw her raising up her hands as if she was trying to catch the warmth into her hands.

Without thinking I took my cam hanging on my sides and took a photo of her. I wanted to catch that moment. The moment I had my heart stolen.

I wish I could give a thousand,a million words of love. To describes how I felt for her but all that comes to mind is her smile, the way she tried to touch warmth.

And there is no word for that.

The sound of the shutter must have alerted her of my presence because when suddenly whipped her head in my direction.
“Is someone there” she softly called out.
Instead of walking away I neared her.

“Im sorry ” I started out. I saw her gripped the rails tightly as if readying herself to bolt at the first sign of trouble. “I apparently walked out too far.”

“Oh, I see.” The woman smiled. And again he felt his something inside him stir.

“I cant help you much in direction as you can clearly tell why.” She laughed heart lighted. Her body relaxed and leaned to the railings  and looked down at me. At least that’s what it looks like with her head bend down to him.
“Your eyes-” I asked her
.
“Ah yes, I am blind and no this is not a trend”

I laughed that time and that’s where our beginning started. Even after we went back to the real world, I never lost contact with her. I was beside her at every turn of her life, helped her when started to piece her life back together again. That time all wanted to tell was.

“Don’t cry.”

Instead I just silently wiped her tears.

And finally stood as a spectator as she found that person she been longing for. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had just been brave enough to voice out what I really felt for her would it make a difference? That I would willingly spent my whole life contentedly beside her but I was a too afraid.
Afraid to disappear from her sight.

Its too late now. I guess. What’s important now is that she had smile in her eyes, and he would make sure it stays that way.

I took one last look at the photo and hid it in the bottom of the box.  At the same time sealing that part inside of me.
Forever.
Days later, a mover had accidentally dropped one of the boxes, quickly picking up its content he saw a photo of a woman clearly enjoying the warmth of the sun. He drew his brows together as he stared at woman in the photo.
The woman looks familiar. Then he heard footsteps on his companions down the stairs, quickly putting everything back together he continued his work, the photo forgotten.
It was late at night, when the mover was at his bed when he suddenly remembered who the woman in the photo was. Even with her eyes binded with that cloth, that’s was definitely her
It was the same woman he had seen in the television.
That writer who was going to marry that singer.
 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s