Youth excites me. The youth in men. The youth in women. I have to hold onto the fact that all of life, human life, humanity, flora and fauna, and the lost and found is a happy gift.
When I was a very small child I wanted to cut holes in the floor of the sun to let the sun in. Peak into my neighbours’ attics. I did love him. There I said it. I loved Raj.
He made me happy in his own way. Don’t you want to be a mother he would often ask me with a twinkle in his eye? I would just blush and smile.
I can still hear his voice. I love you but you are a baby. You’re too cultured. Too well-educated, baby. I said I wanted children. How can I let a child raise my children?
I just haven’t found what I’m looking for yet, Raj said to me with a smile. You took my hand then and I had a fire in my soul. Leaned over and kissed me.
Now you’re are a wonderful who does not have the time of day for me anymore. I love you. Honestly, I do. I love you to death and it was another death in a succession of deaths.
I love you but you are a jerk. You’re happy being a jerk. Happy when you let me down. Whenever I started to cry you left the room, Raj, the poser.
I know what happiness is now and it is not having you around. Dancing with you in front of the television, listening to Sinatra on our wireless always brought tears to my eyes.
Read the whole short story in Ovi Magazine, HERE!