In Continuum.

Love In Red and Black

Have you seen the color of love?
Some say that it is in many different vibrant colors.
But I see them too optimistic for any form of comfort,
while being contented in the ones I own, red and black in color.

*

The crusts around my eyes faltered as the lids of my eyes opened. The morning sun streamed into my bedroom window from the same angle, the shadows casted about the room were of the same shapes, and the air smelled of the same old room I've been living in for so long. There was something however, different about the atmosphere that I was in yesterday morning, a tint of excitement in the air perhaps, a premonition of better hours to come perhaps? Whatever it was, I crawled out of bed with a stupid smile on my face and counted the hours down to five o'clock, secretly cursing the heavens for the slow crawl of the morning seconds.

Her head was upon his chest, the top of it reaching merely his chin. In her hands the strings to a paper bag tensioned, and from within a rose stuck out of the opening, already withering, already dying. In school uniform, they distinguished themselves from the other lovers upon the moving train, they were younger than most or so it seemed, and in the corner of the train they quietly embraced without a word uttered, the smell of milk powder almost hijacking my nose. The old hate and jealousy still lingered within me, until I saw the bag of gifts I had for her, the way my own heart was beating against my chest with every passing second, I forgave them for their childish acts, for don't we all engage in such childish acts once in a while? Love drives us, and it drives us crazy.

The afternoon sun scorched my back, perspiration dotted my back I imagined, as I made my way down to your office place. Old couples embraced at the front, a woman hugging her husband who came to pick her up in his posh Mercedes. A security guard wandered the front porch of the building with a walkie-talkie in his hands, muttering under his breath and rid himself of thoughts about the special day. Alone is best, he might have been thinking. Solitude is bliss!

You came out of the office without seeing me, your brown skirt fluttering in the wind side to side as you walked. The red colored object on your ears was your new love, speaking through her into my ears the first sign of a happy-you - the beginning of a beautiful evening with you. I wanted to ask you to stop in your tracks, not because you were walking in the completely different directions from where I was, but because I wanted the moment to seize, to remember this image before me, of the woman that I love on this special day, beautiful as she is even in the setting afternoon sun, looking for me in her trademark way of being completely lost - the moment when I absolutely fell in love with her.

The first holding of her hands, the first dinner of Valentine's, and I was sure about everything else. Leave the doubts to the burst bubbles above our heads, leave the questions buried within the droplets evaporating from the sides of our glasses. The tone of the place, the smell of you and the way you looked, matched everything that I had in mind of a perfect Valentine's. It was there on the strange looking sofa that looked like an egg being cracked in half, when I wandered how much more perfect an evening out with you can get, if further perfection is actually attainable from perfection achieved.

Those beautiful stars hung from your ears one longer than the other, fabricated beauty in the skies but never in comparison to the beautiful you that very night, when we took a bus to our favorite spot by the sea and embraced against the merciless wind. Wind is alone tonight, wind must not have a date. Wind blew so hard against our faces that our eyes were reduced to tiny slits. The daylight failed against the test of time, but confident of its rise against in a couple of hours, and as it declared it's last bit of confidence through the streaks of orange and violet through the skies, I revealed to her the present that I have been preparing over the nights. 'I might not be around when you are down next time,' I said. 'I hope this will come in handy when that happens...' Your mouth widened into a smile, in the dark I saw your eyes sparkle, true beauty revealed and the world disappeared.

Through my monotonous words, the lines came through my lips. It was the first time I was reading it through, so do forgive me for my blunders and stumbles. Under the pale yellow light the words joined and blended, with my awful handwriting it was worse than ever. But the wind blasted our backs and we tried to make the best of it, and after the last line I saw tears welling in your eyes, the tears that I still quietly kept inside.

With a click, it was locked to the railing. I was afraid that it wouldn't fit, and I was afraid that the ink wouldn't stay. But they both worked out, and there it dangled on the metal railings at the seaside, against the dying wind, with the background the sparkling waters of southern Singapore. Our messages for each other hanging from either side of the lock, with yours a little bit more cryptic and unconventional than mine, but that was okay. I handed you one of the keys while I held mine, and at the count of three we tossed the keys straight into the sparkling waters, vowed never to jump in to retrieve it, and tasted again from your lips the familiar smell of strawberries. There goes the keys, under the surface it slowly sank. But upwards we went into the star covered sky, as we strolled slowly and quietly into the darkening park and night.

Thanks for giving me the best Valentine's Day in my life, I don't think there was any past festive season that actually lived up to yesterday night. Don't torture me with your gifts again, for I always have the urge to tear it open right in front of you and never wait till I get home. I appreciate you, and the way you never truly show your emotions for me but only from cards that you sliced and made with your bare hands. I still think that my gift for your faded in comparison, that I should have done something more to make the mechanism happen. But still, deep inside, I guess our messages are the same for one another.

I love you, and nobody else in this world. Until the next Valentine's Day and the ones beyond, let's keep it this way because this way, is good. This way is right, and this way, I feel so much at myself with you. I love you my dearest, cheers to the many more beautiful nights with a beautiful woman of my life.

*

Have you seen the color of love?
Some say that it is in many different vibrant colors.
But I see them too optimistic for any form of comfort,
while being contented in the ones I own, red and black in color.