I knew it was you, after that long nine years; but I chose to be that guy unaware of the person standing in front. I never knew that this story would get much longer when you sat near me on that third bench when you were fourteen years old, same as mine. And I didn't know that it will be last time you will be sitting near me; the girl who proposed me every year since she was eleven. But I reciprocated your feelings every single time instead of replicating; without fail.
When you waved a good bye to me and left school the same year, I believed what you said as the reason for your move until I heard from another friend that I was the sole reason for your escape. I wondered 'what?' in disbelief, at most she was just fourteen to do that and in an instant
I travelled back to reality and I remembered that I was nineteen then and I already had a girlfriend who loves me a lot.
Every morning in the mirror, I could see an idol of betrayal for holding one girl's hand and carrying another girl in mind, and sometimes I feel that nothing was my fault and everything were coincidence. But at the end of the day everything were my own pretention; justifying myself to cause. Well once more it happened like it happens to many, the girl loved me a lot had nothing more for me than a sorry.
What else is spicy when your four years love leaves you instantly and just two years have past without a thought of love and now you became the dark lone lover travelling all alone in a first class cabin of a train and you meet someone spicy as never before, just outside your cabin.
That positively golden tanned skin in a pinkish white gloss, those long semi straight hair, that nostalgic fragrance of love, and those aryan blue eyes glowing as usual, that sharp lean tip nose and not so pink reddish lips has already made me utter your name in mind but I chose to be that guy unaware of the person in front. She said my name and gave a short introduction of her where I joined her with "ya I knew you" gesture; It was the 'awkward' me.
She sat near me after long nine years, her skin made a pin thumb contact with me, which had shut down my ears and blocked light falling on my retina. We had a long conversation before my station arrived, but nothing about past. She walked me to the door way and as the signal went green, she asked me "So you really did not get this little girl who used to sit near you; when you uttered my name through your eyes?"
Those blue eyes had two things still, the same unconditional love and tears. Train vanished.