In him…

She was young, she was lost, she wanted to fit in and she tried to, to make peace with the family, to make peace with the society that pointed fingers at her odd self, against the flow, why struggle she asked herself, and above all to make peace with her own self she surrendered once a long time ago, and she lost herself. Only to stand up later, to be honest to her own self than be at false peace which came with lies that she told her own self. It was liberation but pain and she was aloof, alone, even though he came into her life a decade ago, to pull her back to her life, to hope, to live with dignity, to be fearless but thoughtful. Love is not always right V he told her. She did not know whether it was an absolute surrender of her painful self that she felt or love. She did not want to love, she wanted to be at peace, but she was not.

He was there always, then and there, far and near, he was there, there was gallantry, unconditional love and support, he was an angel in disguise, with no wings but walking on earth like a common man, a comrade living by example, a scientist who sees world rationally, a musician with magical fingers on the guitar and piano. He would not tell you what to do, but would tell you what could be not right for you, he himself was never right he said, so how can he ever tell the world or anyone what to do, indeed. She was broken but hopeful, she wanted to surrender but fearful and there she was, in him and not in him, floating, but almost drowning. Whenever she opened her eyes he was there, putting her to sleep, singing to her, listening to her, be it about her or her addictions, her self-harm or her confusions, her stupidity or triumphs he was there all along like a constant, but a positive constant. All he wanted was her to be happy, why she wondered because he felt she was part of him, and without her happiness, he was never happy, be it anywhere she was, anytime and any place.

He was the constant she walked upon, sometimes bruising him, sometimes making him smile, sometimes tickling him, other times teasing him. You flash your smile in video chat and I am happy he said, and she never knew what that meant or anyone could mean anything like that, after all for her she was just her, a lost girl, with no place she found for herself. She kept pushing him away, when every step she took to run away, she ran towards him more and more, to be in love, to bear his unborn child, to cross oceans, to vow to be his better half, to love, to sink, to rise, to be everything a woman can be, and he was everything she wanted a man to be, poised, free, liberated, honest and above all constant and consistent.

She was a sine wave and he was a modulator. Every noise that prevailed and sucked her into misery, he watched and suffered, but never let her go. He said love will triumph and all aberrations shall die its own way, maybe slowly maybe soon and he wanted her to not be self-destructive, which she was, throwing away goodness, embracing mediocrity. Perhaps her self-esteem was low and she found lower esteems to devour, which made her vanity thrive but her self-be diseased.

After all, in life, for years she can remember, in spite of all the challenges and hurt she inflicted upon herself, she did and does live in him, beyond him, but within him, she will be his, till her last breath and that clarity is what she yearned, more than herself she had faith in him and that faith brought everything together, forever it cannot be as one of them will die, but forever whilst she breaths, she is his and always was.  Even if death parts us, she can say now, when alive that he will be in her heart and the love of her life.

The prince that fought for her from her childhood fantasies

The man who stood up for her in her adult miseries

The life partner who loved her more than his own self

The Angel whom her family worships…

She is his…in all unison….she is…

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