Trading Dreams

They sat beside each other, in a room dumped with books. Books here and there and everywhere. Piles of them. Some torn, some yellowed. Their covers falling off, she was tired of stacking them one above the other. A slight imbalance would make the whole stack come down like a humpty dumpty and she would gasp and begin all over again. There was a kind of warmth in the room. A warmth that had nothing to do with the late summer afternoon outside.

It was because of the  presence in the room, because of his arm touching hers. No hair stood up, no one got goosebumps. That proximity, that lack of distance, brought about a peace that was rare. All noise as if had gone off to snooze. It was a summer afternoon with books and scarce conversations.

He was typing away, something. She felt no quest to see what that was about. He would tell her most of his stories, the rest she knew. He assumed. They had known each other a few months. But it felt like much less than that, there was always that freshness, that expectation of unlocking a few more secrets about the other.

Sometimes it felt longer. Mostly she had to strain her memory to recollect how she had already lived a third of her life, alone. That would be the most unusual thing however. Company makes you forget what you are for real, under your skin. Only austere loneliness makes known the inner person.

Togetherness, on the other hand conspires sharing. Even of those fleeting dreams we secretly nurture. Away from destiny's prying eyes.

'I want to be in a city that is all of water.'

'Shouldn't you learn to swim?' he laughed.

She continued as if he hadn't said a thing.

'No streets, and you move from one house to another and even shop using a boat.'

'Isn't your wish to perennially float in thought converting into this one?'  

'You know I have a complicated right brain, very very mysterious.'

A prolonged silence followed. She leaned on his shoulder, breathed in sighs at times. Toyed with his nails, put her fingers between his. They clasped.

'I only want to write.'

There was a pause, like he would continue to explain his dream. But that pause stretched into a lull. Her expectation of a continuance died after a while. 

They didn't turn and look into each other. They be that way, she leaning on his shoulder. Nothingness prevailed. A moment froze.

Years later, years that seemed like longer than they were, she was glancing through his pictures of Venice. His broad glad smile, and water. Everywhere. No land, no ground realities to struggle against. Afloat forever.

And she was hung in the middle of writing her maiden story. Looking for words, sketching a character.

Love makes us like each other. Conspires sharing like said. And sometimes it makes us part to live each others' dreams.

13 comments:

$uch! said...

and i love you more and more :)

Boobesh said...

:)

Boobesh said...

:)

Beauty and the BEast said...

whoa! never thought of love in quite that way.. but its true.. you trade part of yourselves, dont you?

lovely!

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

Venice!

Little moments of sharing, they really make the time spent worth it. Time wasn't just spent, it was celebrated.
:)

Blasphemous Aesthete

Koo said...

So wonderful! You have the most brilliant thoughts. I love love love reading your posts :)
New favorite blog!

wildflower said...

:) :* $uch!

A smile is a fine consolation, thanks Boobesh..

Sometimes you trade the whole of yourself in love. After the split, recognizing yourself as an individual outside of him becomes sort of a challenge. Beauty and the BEast.

wildflower said...

Being in love is the divine most way to celebrate life Blasphemous Aesthete. Only Love justifies life.

And thanks Koo. :) I am glad you feel so.

Anonymous said...

Poor choice of template I must say.

Aashayein said...

You said it right!
we live each other dreams in love!

This was beautiful!

wildflower said...

My dear Anonymous, every one says so. Say something else, stand out!

Yeah Mansi, love swaps quite a lot of things. Even in the people like us.

The Sage said...

lucky son of a gun!! venice!!!

waise nice post... did not think ever in those terms but now that you say, i guess we do indeed trade bits of ourselves, not only in love but in any relationship..

wildflower said...

I brought in a new perspective, yay! :D