Friendship is a one-way street. Once lovers can never be friends.


So we are done labelling our relation. I am love to you. You are love to me. Let's end the conversation on this note. Whatever remains after that is pure passion. Something the woman in me craves. Something the man in you enjoys.

We ruined our friendship yesterday. But, oh boy! I still get goosebumps thinking about it. My heart sinks. I feel dry in my mouth. And wet in places where I should. Even now, I can hear your whispers in my ear and can feel your body on mine. I have this uncontrollable urge to sink into your chest, kiss your neck and say - baby, you are mine. I want to savour you. I want to read unfinished poems to you. For one 5-minute kiss, I want to write a 20-thousand word prose. But I don't want to make you a hero. I don't want to give us a happy ending. I don't want to sleep with you every single day. Because if there is a man who can make one night a lifelong memory, you are that man.

I sure have this seething pain to be in your arms, sit with you on a cold December morning and talk about music. While you sip ginger chai I lock my legs into yours. I wonder how is it to talk about Moonlight Sonata under a thick blanket of stars? If you prefer, we can listen to jazz with scotch. I know, we will never do any of these. We won't ever get close to each other. But where we are connected, only we know.

I always say - friendship is a one-way street. Once lovers can never be friends. And we have crossed that line. Even now, I just want to pick up my phone and hear your voice. The Rhapsody of our breaths suggesting an overdue kiss fills my heart with an ache. I want one kiss and nothing else. I smile at the thought. Would we stop at that? I am sure, we won't. But a lady can only ask that! What follows next - well, let's blame it on some good-old scotch.

You'd think why this gibberish? Why can't she say all these things without a drink or two? Trust me, I want to. And trust me, the day I will say these things face-to-face, all this gibberish will become a beautiful poem with our bodies providing the rhythm. Till then, please don't be my friend. Don't be my lover. Just be my therapy. I need you. I want you. More than ever. Maybe, forever.

Comments

  1. This is exactly happening with me right now...... Its so true... Love u saru mam, all ur thoughts n poems gv me more strength

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  2. I’m in awe of ur way of expressing. There’s so much passion. I can’t even get close to this kind of sincereity in my writing. This is What I would have wanted to say to my husband when I was dating him but then didn’t have the maturity or style that you do. You seem to be extremely sensitive and the depth of your thoughts has many like me drowning in it.

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  3. Don't be my lover. Just be my therapy. I need you. I want you. More than ever. Maybe, forever.
    Very few people can be that therapy . As always loved it. U just make my mornings with ur write ups :)

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  4. Just be my therapy. This line weaved by you Saru echoes our multiple emotions, the cuddling, love and friendship may which goes sour after boundary is crossed. What remains are the moments.

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