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Vositha's Blog

~ a story of life, love and other things

Vositha's Blog

Category Archives: Fiction

Words, Walks and Cobbled Roads

19 Saturday Sep 2015

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Relationships

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Tags

cobbled roads, dating, life, moving on, walks, words

Words do not come easy to me. Not anymore. Not to express what I feel, how I feel. I venture, lost between expressions, thoughts, and chains of images, flowers, candles, cobbled roads and boots with heels, (annoying ones.)

Expressions sweep in, different voices, different places. I walk along in my heels, in silence, with occasional complains. Within words come in torrents. Voices in my head, images, smiles and scowls. I watch him walking away, after his “I love you,” apparently he wanted to say a last good bye. I wonder what he wanted. Whispers, and wonders of insanity over months, tantrums I would throw, walked away from. I see the texts, the mails, the moments of frustration and holding onto sanity by a thread that float in front me with images, letters, and sounds. Blocked out, moved on from yet still resurface to haunt.

I feel you pulling me closer, the chilly evening for a kiss that you consider proof of your spontaneity. Laughter, and counting kisses to keep track to what adds up to a “lot of kisses,” till I almost fall, and you pull me closer, for both of us to burst into laughter. (Block the voices, the noises, the thoughts, the other people, I think push away thoughts.)

We pass a beggar with a dog, you turn to your usual analysis, wonder why beggars have dogs, “They are expensive to keep,” you say. I had not realised the man was a beggar. (Attention diverted, focused on heels while suffering on cobbled roads.) I ignore him, you tell him”Sorry.” I hear you, being your gentlemanly self, and like you more for it.

Words, images, sounds. Gushing in, faces of familiarity, voices of annoyance, frustration, and general conversation. Crowds rushing through my mind, brain waves clashing with you sticking out: flowers, candles and my fair lady moments, with an occasional laugh from you at some idiocy I would have uttered in my half sleep, and exhaustion.

I think of moments, us, cobbled roads and chilly evenings, and block the noises and the rest outside. For a moment.

Photo courtesy Creative Commons

Photo courtesy Creative Commons

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Protected: On Epiphanies and Moving On

11 Saturday Apr 2015

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Random Moments of Life, Relationships

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dating, epiphany, love, moving on, relationships

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Protected: Three Blocks of Walking

14 Saturday Mar 2015

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Novel, Random Moments of Life, Relationships

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dating, good byes, love, partners, relationships

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“You two look totally in love!”

28 Tuesday Jan 2014

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Relationships

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love, photos with partner, random clicks, relationships

Ash looks at the photo and says, “You two look totally in love!”

I was not too sure about that, at least not at that particular moment she was referring to. Sure, I loved Aiden, and that too in my own way. And he claims he loves me in his own way. (Thank god we never get into analysing what constituted  “own ways,”). But at that specific moment, I was pissed off with him for being an idiot. I was pretty sure I was counting minutes till we finished our diner so I could express exactly how I felt (which of course I did while he laughed it off which is his usual when I am trying to make a point,) when that impromptu photo was clicked.

Funnily enough even Aiden has comments that detect not at all my mood:  “Can you get rid of this photo please? I look like an idiot (not necessarily, he was just fishing for a compliment on his looks I believe), but you look happy in it!”

“Hold on! You look happy in all of them! How do you do that?”

On closer inspection, I do actually look happy. In one of the photos I was actually grinning (freaky). Weird as it may seem, I seem quite satisfied with my own little corner of the earth leaning on Aiden’s shoulder. No sign of anger, calculating arguments or any discontent what so ever.

We looked quite a happy couple, dining together, surfacing on a photo clicked by a friend who sat on the opposite end which unfortunately left me wondering, “when the hell had I become Miss. Plastic?!”

The Fight

03 Thursday Oct 2013

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Relationships

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Tags

dating, fight, I miss you, relationships, understanding each other

I missed him.

We never fought. But this time I think we had.  Over some man, who had nothing to do with our lives.  Completely irrelevant as the other man be, he had successfully opened a new door for us: A fight.  A passive one at that.

Then again, I am not even sure whether what we had constitutes a fight. We never got to shout at each other with our time zone differences getting the best of it, with me already asleep when he returned home. I had been too fast in typing out a whole paragraph over something he had not typed in, but more like wanted to type in, at least in my mind.

He had agreed, as usual,  to what I wanted, and texted “you’ve got yourself a deal!”

My brain started working only on reading it, “Is this what I wanted? What do I really want? I mean do I even want anything?”

I had already decided that the moment emotions started playing its part, I would most likely pack and leave, do something to piss him off, or just start dishing him with annoyance so that I could check his level of patience. So far no shouting.

I was confused. Once again, I was very confused.

I remember his parting words, “I will miss you. I know I do not tell it, but then you know me!”

“Do I really?”

“A Perfect Weekend”

29 Sunday Sep 2013

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Random Moments of Life, Relationships

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Tags

Aiden, dating, love, relationships, Weed-end

Recipe for a perfect weekend

-Aiden
-Two full days of no lap-top
-Two full days of limited internet
-No phone
-A lot of walking (and a lot of holding hands)
-Tolerating each other’s snoring
-Not fighting over bills or splitting bills
-A lot of sleep
-More sleep
-And more Aiden time

I have not written in a while. I think I have lost touch of it. Work and travel had kept me too busy to think of things I normally type.
Aiden had been kind enough to drop in when I had finally wrapped up my work. It was good to see him. Life felt normal with him around. Despite both of us complaining of each others’ snoring, I had finally got my 9 hour sleep, and I was thrilled over it. He seemed to be fascinated over the amount of hours I could sleep. I was grateful that he would put up with my sleep, snoring and every other fancy, being very accommodating and patient.
My life was tilting over that edge where one is not sure whether it is you who is crazy or the rest that is around you. The men I had dealt with last month had rendered me to boarder-line lunacy. Hugging Aiden brought that fuzzy feeling into my life, the feeling of being able to feel something, feel cared for and not groped or eye-raped. He gave me the feeling that I did not need an explanation for every action. It was definitely a good thing, correction, an awesome feeling.
Aiden speaks of things that people take in face value, without getting too philosophical over it. He laughs at me, and says I make up things. I have no idea what he means by it, but sometimes it is just good to see him laugh, and not complain about things. I had just switched off my brain from processing. It was Aiden’s task to process things, and I was just letting him be the “man”.
Life is simple if you take it to be. Aiden had decided to keep it such, and I was happy that I could switch off my brain after a week, and let him take the steering wheel. A feeling I already miss.

Change of Priorities

24 Monday Jun 2013

Posted by vositha in Fiction

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Tags

caring, dating after divorce, dating with kids, love, relationships

Aiden looks at Akashiv on my phone.

“He is big now!” he says.

The two have not yet met though Aiden has made faces at the little one over skype. Times and circumstances need to be worked out to make the introduction. I was not quite sure on what Aiden’s reaction would be to a toddler. He, acting like one at times. Cute as it maybe, I feel at times mother to both of them. My little one, and the big baby who I turn to when needing emotional support.

It’s funny how much the two of them have in common. Aiden and Akashiv both need smothering attention and love. Aiden’s mum having spoilt him as a kid, and I being guilty of spoiling my kid. I feel more his mum at times than his partner, when he tucks his face against me like my little one does. And I react , kissing his forehead as I do with my son. I receive the same reaction, a smile from both parties.

“He has your eyes”

I nod leaning on to his shoulder. He kisses my cheek.

I realize life is not simple anymore. The former me would have spent my time with Aiden, and been with him for the weekend, investing more time into our relationship. But now decisions are bound to my son. I no longer could decide to pack and leave, or run away into Aiden’s arms. Priorities have changed, and I am needed home, with my son.
Cherishing the warmth that I will miss in a few hours, I wonder whether I would return home one day, to both of them. Life has taught me that I could only hope.

Into the Night Winds

17 Monday Jun 2013

Posted by vositha in Fiction

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Tags

Adrien, love, relationships, understanding in a couple, work and love

It’s one of those days that work gets in the way and emotions have got side-tracked. Aiden tries to be understanding, but more like be supportive to the limit he wants to lock himself in the room and then keep working on his thesis (a way of showing understanding but slightly overwhelming at times.)

I try to be close to him, but he ends up feeling guilty thinking that he is in the way of my work, hanging out with my friends, and the possibility of going out. I have run out of words to explain that I spend time, doing nothing, but lying next to him (as he types in words of his thesis) out of choice and not though obligation. But I have since of late given up.

My legs are killing me,  Adrien’s mood swings slightly annoy  me, and his aloofness hurt at times when my emotions do revive.

He act at times like a shy child, and runs to his emotional shell when he feels that he is losing me. I have long realized that he would turn possessive when we get close taking time to sink into the new emotions through aloofness.

Walking in silence he would tuck his hands in his pockets, and I would walk in silence next to him wishing he would reach out. He does after a while, in his indifference as a habit and then smiles with me. His eyes light up and I remember the Aiden I love, the one for whom I care and want to hug and assure things will work out, that space would not turn into emptiness, and that his tantrums or panic attacks over all the emotions or process between us, would not push me away as he imagines. I want to him to feel the normalcy of kissing me before leaving the room, experience it become a habit, and part of our lives. But we are still on that rocky zone, where he needs to be proved that he is not going to get hurt by letting in those emotions.

Imelda over dessert senses the tension between us. Aiden tells her that I don’t introduce him to my friends. I end up defending myself and provide that he does not get out of the room. He adds he has had a bad day. I sense that  he is sending me a silent message. I feel grateful for Imelda’s presence and the bottle of wine consumed in her rom.

“I am sleepy. But you guys need to talk!” she tells, before handing me the share of her bill and taking her coat to walk into the chilly night.

I dread the moment since I don’t want to hurt him or myself anymore with the conversation on the topic we have been going in circles the whole day.

“Why didn’t you go to the party”

“Because I did not feel like doing so”

“You should have gone!” he says.”

“But I wanted to be here with you!””

Silence, fidgeting with fork, dissecting of particles in the salad in front of him.

“I love you. But I don’t want to marry you or anything like that.”

“I know,” he says.

He touches my cheek and presses his face against mine. His curly hair falling over his forehead that I push away before kissing his forehead and the tip of his nose. (I have stopped kissing him on the lips for the day so as not to cause another panic attack in him with unjustified and non-analysed feelings flooding in between us. I was tired of the space between us.)

He reaches for me and pulls me closer, wrapping his hand around my waist. I feel warmth for the first time for the day while the cold wind crashes on my skin, reminding me that I need to face his coldness when he finds his shell again,  retreats to it, blocks me out.

Together we walk into the night, hands locked. He smiles with me, and I reply with a smile that spreads across my face, reminding me the happiness we do share on a good day, and the tenderness he does possess but offers in rations at times.

I look at his face and realize that things will fall in place, if not now, at least in the future. They always do..

“The Missing Game”

26 Sunday May 2013

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Relationships

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Tags

arguments, I miss you, relationships

“You said you will come this week!”

“Counsel you are distorting the facts!”

He smiles but does not admit the truth.

“You told me you would come this weekend, and I will come the next,” I reply, ensuring words are separated properly, and would cause no more confusion.

“Oh! Come on!”

I had forgotten this game of repeating the same thing, while the other would not admit what he said less than one hour ago.
I had spoken to him a few minutes ago, and I was pretty sure as to how the conversation went. Actually I could tell each word of the conversation. It was a blessing or a curse I possessed: being able to recite what others tell, even when I should not be remembering it.

“So are you are not going to come?” he repeats. It was like talking to a kid, who was not willing to lose an argument. (Mental note: two lawyers together can be a little problematic at times, specially neither lets go of one’s case)

“You know I can’t! I thought we went through this once!” I reply, finally frustrated at him for just picking a stupid fight, for the sake of annoying me.

“I do not want to fight with you!”

“You call this fighting?” he asks.

I decide silence be the best treatment for him, simply knowing that he was just trying to get my attention.

“We are not going to do this! I will talk to you later!” I tell him.

“Are you crying?”

I was not crying, but on the verge of exploding after a long exhausting day, that seemed never ending.

Silence.
We both wait.

“Sorry”

Silence.

“I miss you!” he says.

“Simple as Coffee and PJs”

22 Wednesday May 2013

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Relationships

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Tags

coffee, dating, life, relationships

Aiden had decided that his patience with me was going to be an enduring one. Despite my notions of pushing him away, he had decided to stick around, keep his patience, and to make things work. Or at least try to make them work.

I was silent in acknowledging my appreciation, which of course came in small portions, and was generally transferred through telepathy, being happy to afford him bitchy me and nice me at occasions and then just by making sure that I would not be a “runaway bride” and run away from all forms of relationship notions.

However, I was surprised when he picked our first “couple-like” fight. It was over some silly hair-cut which he thought he did not need and I thought would be nice if he had.

The drift of the topic was such that he thought he looked better with longer hair with his curls being visible to the world (of which I have no complains, and which of course has its own attraction) and my thinking that he would look better with a shorter hair-cut for a change, looking a bit matured.

“ I will look like a pencil” he says.
“You do look like one when you have your normal hair-cut, that is why I am telling that you would look better in a one!” I tell him.
It then stretches to shirts, and number of shirts he would be travelling with and comes back to hair. I have lately realised that Aiden and I have a common ground. We both do take our own time to forget things. Or rather being too” lawyerish,” we both try to take our own time, but come back to proving each-one’s side of the argument, providing ourselves intervals if needed.

“So what you going to do about ‘your’ hair?”
“ I think I will go bald,” I reply.
“Good, you will look good then!” he adds.

I felt his last retort was too silly to be commenting on and decided that I did not want to continue playing this game of whether he needs a hair-cut or I need to go bald to improve my looks. I think he also had run out of his arguments, and was just being an idiot. Thankfully enough to which-ever be the cause, he decides he will get his hair-cut, and I decide that I will be silent and be rationed in pestering him.
Immediate result : conversation turns to normalcy, over weather that is gloomy which he hates, and then to International Court of Justice or something totally random as the pattern on his PJs.

I have realized of late thanks to Aiden, that life can be simple if I do not embark on my normal mission of adopting a cause for reform.
Things are simple if we decide to keep it that way. It’s very simple, like simply agreeing that smell of coffee is good in the morning, and that he would have looked good in his alphabet print PJs had he been 5 years old.

But the bottom line, in life I laugh. And he laughs with me too!

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