Here comes another love story of the very author of this blog.
This is October, where rain comes every other day, which is perfect. Because rain is a blessing.
I met him in a very normal circumstance, where he greeted me a bit louder that it should have been, and he started talking to me when it was more appropriate.
I shall not talk about him further. On the other hand, I want to let the world know, that around 2 years ago I wrote a post in this blog about “my last crush” before my future husband. But then, I was wrong. People come and go. I sometimes let them in, sometimes kept them outside. So this guy, my very subject in this post, is a guy in a shiny armor riding a horse coming to the castle of my heart. This guy might be my future husband, my last resort, but may be not.
A flowing, effortless conversation is where I shall start this story. I will say yes if someone asks me whether I believe in love at the first sight. So when he greeted me enthusiastically and approached me with elegance, I would love to believe that he found me interesting. Maybe the size of my hijab, I don’t know. Maybe simply my chubby cheeks that I am blessed to have. I can’t tell. I appreciated his look, too, and may be that was the core reason why I’ve been having this butterfly fluttering its wings in my tummy since we met.
The following hours spent with him was effortlessly fun, if not making me elated. I made the move to ask his number at the end of our encounter, and there came series of a deeper conversation by texting. I told him that I don’t go out like those youngsters intending for a marriage, but I accept visits to my parents’ house from grown-up gentlemen.
I told him I would love to see him again and he asked, “why me”. I answered something at which he laughed. I am not sure whether he wants me too, and that makes things easier for me. I have nothing to lose. What we are having now is a friendship because of the same hobby. Guess I am a nervous clumsy girl who prefers a platonic relationship for now and let things proceed naturally.
The most unfortunate ending that I may have is that we don’t see things similarly and we should go on our own ways. But I believe deep conversations solve some probable misunderstandings. For marriage is about communicating to one another for the rest of our life. After all, these crazy thoughts in my head may be just in my head, just remnants of past heart breaks.
Long story shorts, days were replaced by weeks, then by months, so the warmth of the conversations faded like a dying candlelight.
People told me that it was the geograhic distance that made it hard to keep up the height of the chemistry. But I disagreed. Something changed though I was never sure why.
Then I ended whatever making me feel like I nurtured the fluttering butterflies in my tummy by a thank-you note. No replies. I would expect that. A long sigh and some nights with tears. But I was okay. Always. If I wasn’t okay I would have been someplace else, like in the asylum.
This old lady writing this post is just a girl who looks forward to having a lasting “friendship.” Although this didn’t turn into a beautiful love story, I would still let this linger on the internet forever, because love is a blessing, and I am grateful to feel this.