Between you and me

(Image courtesy: Tumblr)

All these years, without any form of communication from her and yet, here it was. Her book, in my hands. I fingered the spine lovingly, caressing it as I used to caress her cheek. Between you and me by Aanya, the cover proclaimed proudly. I smiled. 

I knew that the book was a secret dream which she cherished in her heart even then. One that scared and fascinated her at the same time. Something that she revealed to me and only me, when her confidence went for a toss.

Aanya, a whiff of love, a lot of confusions, plenty of things still left unsaid. Will her book hold any answers for me? Was it her way of letting me know, what she couldn't tell me those years ago? It all seemed ages back, a different lifetime when love was all that we needed. Love, the only thing that diffused my life into hers. Like spilled paints of yellow and red which formed orange, it was difficult to distinguish where one ended and the other began.

The author photograph showed a confident young woman smiling back at me. She looked different, a layer of sophistication now shrouded her, but the look in her eyes was the same. The same sparkle that I fell for. An innocent twinkle. Yet, holding a lot of secrets in its depths. Not daring to reveal the woman beneath.

Did she think of me? Did she ever miss me? A lot of questions raised through my tumultuous mind. But the most scariest one of all was what I had been avoiding all these years, did she ever love me?

I grabbed a cup of hot coffee and a freshly baked cream roll and sat back in my bed with her book. Would I ever find my answers in here? I lay back on my bed which was still warm and began to read the first page.

Love comes to us when we least expect it. It takes us in a sweep, holding us in its clutches and refusing to let go. Love is like a hurricane, it destructs. It is also like a rainbow, towards the end of a heavy downpour. For me, love is the scent of coffee and freshly baked bread. Love is the scent of his woody aftershave that I inhale when he holds me close. Love is his gentle caress and the crazy things he did for me. It gave me a new world and left a seamless void when it was snatched away too soon. Love is him. And only him - Aanya. 

I wiped away a tear which had begun to form at the corner of my eye and lay back to read the rest of what she had to say. It was going to be a long morning.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Also, linking it to Day 6 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014 and NaBloPoMo.