Paradox

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A few years ago, I was satiated with the kind of life I was leading which has now become vapid itself. My heart has become impervious to any kind of emotion humankind is known to.

I was lying in a verdant field, languid, ruminating about what all had happened. I meticulously delineated grass with my agile fingers only physically present and eyes wide open staring into the abyss of an incessant sky. It was maybe the zephyr carrying me only deeper into my thoughts. I could hear the pages of the book, kept by my side, flutter. It’s noise only inconsequential in the crescendo of his voice in my head. I could not have been more complacent with my life.

Suddenly the wind abetted a dust particle to jump into my eye, bringing me back from my thoughts. A tear came running down to my ear not merely because of the dust but because of the irreparable damage time had done.

I was ingenuous to his superficial affection. His memories were inscribed forever in my heart. The way he maneuvered his lips tracing my own and curling his arm gently around my waist, pulling me close until even air ceased to pass, still sends a shiver down my spine. Where I considered his love to be my elixir, it had only been a calumny and him so perfidious. I cried inexorably recalling all that had occurred.

I started to walk slowly towards the sea considering death to be my ultimate panacea. That is when he silently crawls up in my bed and lands a smooth kiss on my forehead saying, “Wake up love!”

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