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I spoke about walking away yesterday. On second thoughts, I realized that I would be walking away from just my emotions. I still harbour my feelings for her deep within my heart. Maybe one day they will come out in the sunshine. This period of indecision seems so hard that I am often torn between the fight between my head and my heart in the words of Chris de Burgh: For we cannot live together, and we cannot live apart, It's the classical dilemma between the head and the heart; ..... And in my heart of darkness she has been the only light, I am lost in love, looking at her face, And still I hear the voice of reason, Telling me to chase these dreams away, Oh here we go again, we're divided from the start, For we cannot live together, and we cannot live apart, It's the classical dilemma between the head and the heart, ... Now the dawn begins, and still I cannot sleep, My head is spinning round but now the way is clear to me, There is nothing left, nothing left to
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Yesterday was a total disaster. She was leaving that night and I was trying desperately to reach her home on time. When I finally did, she wasn't there. Her mother said she had gone to a relative's place. Waiting for her, I looked around me. Her touch could be seen everywhere in her house. From a painting that hung on the wall to the precisely arranged flowers on the table. God, how would my home look if she looked after it. Her photo albums offered a glimpse of her life down the years. I hadn't really noticed how she had changed over the years. I found it difficult to believe that they were pictures of the same girl I knew. Maybe it is true that love is blind. She always looked lovely whenever she wore skirts. Her room had the presence of an intelligent woman. Books lay neatly arranged in shelves with academic related ones on one shelf and other books on another. An elegant crucifix adorned the top shelf. Her desk too was arranged so neat. I recalled her saying that
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It's Christmas. Hurray!!! Joy to the world, The Lord is born. Christmas morn saw me reminiscing about her. Wished I could wished her "Merry Christmas". The floodgate of memories burst open when I was in church. An incident at the church triggered it. I was standing outside the church when I noticed two small kids, a boy of 6/7 years and a girl maybe 5/6 years old. They were looking at each other, thier dresses, thier difference in lifestyles. The boy seemed to from a well-to-do family while the girl was not of the same social status of the boy. I could see the girl looking at the boy with wonder, his clothes, all sparkling new. He had a water-bottle strapped around his arms. She looked at the boy with curiosity. I saw her comparing her clothes with the boy's. She was also well dressed but not as well dressed as the boy. No words were exchanged during these five minutes between them. Only looks were exchanged. The girl's were those of curiosity and the
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