from the pits of his heart

The bees hummed away in tandem with the humming birds, conspiring to accentuate the air that was already saturated with the emotions churned out from the heart; each vying for an audience to share its untold saga.

Such was the day when she bid adieu, knowing not that her wish to escape and make it forever on her own would mother the avalanche of destruction in him, dragging his heart down to the freezing depths of solitude; depths where Hades in the flesh would fear to tread, depths where the only light would be the dark one – of the absence of salvation. She never knew, per se. Never knew her actions would reverberate to such magnitude. His gentle pushes and prods for something more serious to materialise between them might have forced a few warning dots in her built-in radar of self preservation; perhaps she had decided to ignore those and stay aloof in the face of any pretence or more of (the same). He might have reacted the same way when things were slowly put in motion at her end for her to be shipped off as the better half of some other bloke.

There was, however, this tiny speck of discontent in the depths of her heart; for she knew she was leaving him behind without any companionship, without any warmth of her flesh by him. This feeling stemmed only from her compassion and perhaps a bit too from her love for him, he was sure.

Perhaps the gods high up in Olympus had written so in the stars, perhaps the heavens had conspired for it to be this way; or maybe it did not need any divine intervention simply because they were vividly incompatible entities.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They did share many things in the days past – ample joy, striking sinking sorrow, huge relief, battle of wits, raunchy humour that clicked and ticked their senses, plain and simple bitching, the warmth of each other’s naked flesh – it was a long list of things that helped them bond.

She never thought he had any ulterior motive; he had never had any. He always loved to be by her side; she was never bored of his bawdy quipping. There was a steamy red-hot undercurrent of passion that literally consumed the pair. It was evident from the heated arguments they had and the consequent burning love-making. They would swing their paws at each other trying to cut as deep as possible, and then there would be the passionate making of love; two human bodies intertwined like snakes on the hot desert sand where their lust aroused whirlwinds of dust storms that blinded everything around for miles. Their fights were like tsunamis that jostled their senses and clouded the good judgement rendering them dumb and mute while trudging along in their everyday lives.

There were times when he had pulled her out of her misery only to discover more than what met the eyes; she did help fight his own demons waging a war to come out, by lending a hand quashing them. There was more work left undone, more discoveries to be made and jewels to be revered and prided upon. There were times when they had drowned in the reverie of their own pitfalls and wounds of the inner demons, in their own pits of sorrow and anguish – all unbeknown to each other. They did stay in touch, in one way or another. Never were they able to forget. She would come and swirl around in his thoughts, dreams and nightmares; occupying a considerable portion – as an observer might say, from the sidelines. But he was smart enough not to be engulfed in them entirely and let them rudder him across the oceans in his journey alone every day. No, he was too smart for that. Her memories weren’t the combined torque for his life either, but they perhaps acted as inspirations for him. But fate had things planned otherwise.

Swirling around in the vat in the deepest pit of his mind, he knew he was still enslaved by her memories. He knew he had to break away and swim out from there, else he’d never know what true freedom is. As much as he relished the memories of being tangled around her warm, brown, naked skin that radiated the warmth for his carnal desires and his heart, as much as he longed for the same touch and electric shiver, he knew the end of the road for the memories to keep waltzing into his life had to be made. The line had to drawn.

Sooner. Or later.