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Lakeside Lovers By Mridu Khullar The lake was quiet. The eerie solitude made it seem like a picture on a magazine cover. And it could have been, but for the two figures near the tree. Us. As we sat, arm in arm, looking at the ducks swimming their normal course, not a word was spoken. We simply sat at the edge of the lake and held each other, the warmth from our bodies comforting the other on this cold winter day. The wind grew colder and he rose to leave. I reached for his hand, “Five more minutes?” He sat down, the smile on his face telling me he was glad I’d stopped him. He glanced at his watch, “Okay, but then we’ll leave.” We watched in silence, as it started to rain. Like our eyes, our thoughts drifted to the same place. Best friends of over two years knew what the other was thinking without having to be told. We could see it in the other’s eyes. Sense it in each other’s touch. Five minutes quickly became fifteen, and fifteen changed to thirty. The rain poured down on us relentlessly, and as it began to get dark and cold, he put his arm around me. A brief flicker in his eyes told me he cared, but he looked away before I had a chance to look into those deep eyes and tell him it was okay. I stared into the pond. The ducks had retreated into their dens. Much like my own feelings. At times, I would look into his eyes, and wish that he’d just say the words. Then, my heart would take the backseat and I’d once again be the ambitious, commitment-phobic woman, reluctant to let a relationship rule my life. The cold wind hit against my face, as I shivered by his side. Immediately, he wrapped me in his arms. “Maybe I shouldn’t,” he hesitated, suddenly realizing the intensity of his action. But you should. Oh, you absolutely should. I could hear myself shouting from within. My heart was pounding. One touch, and that was all it took to throw those ideals away and bring my desire to its peak. I looked at him to see if there was any sign of the feelings I knew he had. Nothing. He stood there, with absolutely nothing in his face to give away the hunger in his eyes of just moments ago. The sky was now dark, as were my hopes of drawing out feelings in this man. We got up to head home, and he looked at me. The gleam in his eyes was back, and as he opened his mouth to speak, I knew he would say something that would put the ghosts of my heart to rest. “You look like a witch.” I laughed and kissed his cheek. “You’re no treat yourself kiddo.” As he fumbled in his pocket to find the keys, I looked at him. He wasn’t the Super Model that I’d always wanted. He didn’t look handsome or sophisticated with his hair wet from the rain. Instead, his hair stuck to his face like a damp cloth giving him a look that would have made me run miles in the past. But I didn’t run. I stood there rooted to the ground and stared. And all I could think was I wanted to kiss him. “What were you thinking just then?” “Huh? Nothing.” “Liar.” What was I thinking? I’d never even dated a guy who looked less than perfect. And here stood my best friend, a friend who loved me and cared for me, but never once thought of me any other way, and I was picturing myself kissing him right here in the rain? What was wrong with me? My last boyfriend wore leather jackets and sleeveless t-shirts. He tattooed a scorpion on his arm and rode a bike with another one painted on it. This one would look like a fool in that kind of apparel and a misfit on a bike. He was the kind I’d like to introduce to my parents, the kind I’d like to take home and spent a quiet evening with. This was a person who drove an expensive car, because anything below it would hamper his style. He didn’t crave for adventure or live for the moment. His actions were well thought out and planned. He knew what he wanted, and he worked hard to get it. This one was not like the rest. This one would last. And it was then that I knew it. It was love. I was in love. It didn’t matter if he didn’t gel his hair, or care about looking perfect. It didn’t matter whether he wasn’t tall enough, or thin enough, or handsome enough. If I could love him without regard to his hairdo or his wardrobe, we had to have a deeper connection. It was this one moment that I’d been waiting for. The one deciding moment, in which the curtain would rise, and I would come face to face with the truth. Until now, I’d been unsure. I had fought to stay independent and non-committal. But as the reality that I’d been running from, cornered me and hit me blatantly between my eyes, I knew what I wanted. And I knew this was it. "Let's go home," I whispered as I slid into the seat beside him. After weeks of torturing myself I had finally found what I was looking for. And as he dropped me off at my apartment, I knew I had found love. |
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