It was a big day. Huge! A day that had been truly magical, some years ago. She was brushing her hair. She was all dressed in one of her favourite outfits when she saw something, tucked away behind a pile of clothes. It was her old diary, from quite some years ago. She flipped through some pages, reliving memories when she came across the page May 6. But the entries, of course, weren’t made on the day. Nothing was in order, little notes, memos, stapled clippings and doodles were everywhere. But she saw that some entries were made in purple ink, which distinguished them from the rest. There was a huge bundle of these entries in purple ink. She remembered her purple ink days. She looked at the clock. Enough time. She sat down on her bed, reading.
“May 6, Thursday:
Dear Diary,
Forgive me for not writing all these days. They’ve been a beautiful 2 weeks, although not easy. But what can I say? They were beautiful and perhaps worth the wait. So here.
I was going through a hard phase. Look at some of your previous pages, damp with tears and bleeding ink. You know how tough it’d been. I loved him, diary. I did. With all my heart. And I know it wasn’t his fault but it wasn't mine either. And things happened the way they did. I was angry, frustrated, depressed, empty, sallow, but mostly hurt. I wanted the pain to go away.
I knew he was seeing someone, and I also knew that I had to, too. I had to move on and I needed to socialize. What harm could come out of meeting people? None. And trust me, I feel happy now. I really feel happy and settled and like life had something good to offer.
So. I did meet someone. Sameer. And yeah, he’s cool. We met through a mutual friend. We went out a little, just lunches and dinners. Nothing yet. We hung out, he’s a great friend. And then we hung out more.
I met his family, he met mine. But of course, as each other’s friends. Nothing more. And I liked them, and I liked Sameer, and I liked spending time with him. But did I love him? I was hoping I did, but I was never sure. Never. It’s strange how despite going separate ways, I’ve never felt the love and care and fondness that I felt for him with anyone I met after. Not even Sameer I guess.
May 7, Friday:
So anyway, just as I got to know Sameer well, I happened to bump into ‘him’ the other night. It was cold and breezy and I was walking home. He was there with someone, I don’t know who but it seemed like he was upset or just angry. I didn't go up to him immediately, I waited till she left. They said something to each other and she left, and they didn't look back at each other. I could tell that they’d perhaps never look at each other.
I walked towards him, him in his dark trench, hair ruffled by the breeze and his cheeks just slightly tinted pink from the cold, like mine. He looked at me and his frown magically disappeared. I thought it’d be awkward bumping into him after what we had been through but he made it look so natural and so pleasant. He walked up to me, smiling a little and grabbed me in his arms, embracing me. His warmth felt so comforting and so good in the cold. At that moment, during that brief hug, I didn’t think of that girl or my job, that evening, the place, Sameer, the cold, the time or anything but him, his arms around me, his chin on my shoulder and his cheek slightly brushing against mine. Just him.
We’d actually hugged for what was longer than appropriate. (Actually hugging itself seems inappropriate. Anyway.) Despite the long, inappropriate hug, it seemed too short and I wished, oh how I wished we could just hug the nights and days away.
He then looked at me, in my eyes, and I saw his liquid brown eyes locked with mine, then ends of his eyes crinkling (something he did when he was happy). That shouldn’t be allowed. He shouldn’t be allowed to either a) crinkle his eyes like that, looking that frigging adorable or b) crinkling his eyes whilst looking at me. And again, the stare seemed longer than appropriate.
