There is a little smile wrestling on my lips.
To be or not to be.
It is a hot night, a windless dry night. My room is a machination of proportions. My cell phones lie on one side while my head set lies as carelessly as possible.
There is also a light, sad song which has torn my heart with memories- old and new.
And of course, there is my green tea. It sits in a cup, steaming and welcoming.
I feel very romantic tonight. Although, the heat in the past few days has been maddening, I have a blissful giggling in my heart.
Two nights before, I talked to a friend {she knows, who she is} about my first love.
It sits in my heart like a buzzing bee humming to the first hint of spring, changing its beat when running into its friends in the garden.
I remember a night- an amazing night under a full moon. The beach was calm, its waves washing against the shore kindly. The rotund moon looked beautiful and in the calmness of the night everything surrounding me was lit.
Including me.
I sat there for hours- an unknown happiness bubbling in my heart. I watched the waves patiently, I watched the moon, and I watched the night.
For me, that night was love.
For me, that night was happiness.
I have been thinking of my first love. And, I feel happy and gushing.
I did not think of love as something monumental before. It did struck a chord- like the C chord, which is so wonderfully easy to learn.
But, I couldn't strain more.
I think of why we are no longer together- why we would avoid those roads which we had walked every weeknight, why we would never call someone else what we called each other, why we will never hate each other.
It was a good love.
Melodious. Laughing. Memories. Silliness. Understanding. Funny.
Years later, I might sit on such a sultry day as this hating everything in existence. I might hate that the wind is too slow, that the sound of the television is cacophonous, maybe I would be cranky at the way life has been at a standstill.
On such a night, if I could, I will remember the good feeling when we have a heart filled with love. If I could, I will climb on those memories to reassure myself that things will become alright.
A good love does that.
Beyond that, it changes us to the core in a minute on a sultry, slow night.
