Thirty Seconds

“I’ve been trying today to bring back your face. Most clearly I remember your eyes, with a kind of teasing smile in them, and the feeling of that soft spot just northeast of the corner of your mouth against my lips.”

A month has passed but everyday, since the past three weeks I have been spending eight hours a day to catch a thirty seconds glimpse of you; wishing you would say something to someone and I would get to hear your voice; wondering if you had anything left unsaid to me and hoping that you would say it now.

You leave me with a little of you everytime you pass me by. Sometimes, you smile; sometimes you wink and sometimes you just make a funny face. It might last a moment for you but for me it stays. It stays for the next few hours; lasts while I am on my way back home and barely enough till I put myself to bed with a thought of a better tomorrow. But tomorrow never gets better and now I just do it so that I can take home enough of you along with me to last for the day. 

There are days when I don’t see you at all. On days like these I shut my eyes and though I am almost always unsure of my ability to recall faces, yours just brightens the screen of my retina bringing back tattered bits of memories that I have with you which I have gathered over time. It’s like a collage and I relive each picture, no matter how small or big; and I secretly wish I had danced with you that night while you held me close instead of breaking into fits of crazy laughter to veil my awkwardness. 

I don’t know what I feel for you. If I wouldn’t have known love, I would have thought that I love you. But I don’t. It’s an unfamiliar magnetic force that pulls me and my thoughts towards the farthest stretch of your memory. It’s a feeling of strong emotions mixed with pangs of guilty pleasures; bouts of longing for soft sensual caressing mixed with wild scent of desire and animal passion. And while I desperately crave for your warm breath against my racing heartbeats and for your sweat against mine, those thirty seconds still suffice.

I miss you. I really really do. And irrespective of what logic tells me, I still believe with my entire existence that    you’ll come by and reciprocate instead of merely responding to my feelings in affirmative or otherwise. I know   I told you that I need you. That night I was drunk. But I guess I was right.