Tug of Stares
He used to stick his
face in the window trying his best to glue his eyes on me while I was busy
reading my book. He would stay there in a lapse of time looking at me like a
painter looking at the ornate details
of his subject. At first, I didn’t mind the nameless phantom that was lurking in the corner but seeing him looking at me
as if I am the most beautiful thing in the world, made me decide to say “Hi”
the next time. The next day, the same thing happened but this time, I
acknowledged his presence and smiled at him. It was a casual smile and his
reaction was priceless. He shouted “yes” and ran somewhere in the dark realm of anonymity. Deep within me, something was forming. A formation which
I can’t fully comprehend but yet I suffered the symptom. I just want to see him
again by the window sticking his face while eyes were fixed on me. Finally, the next day, he said something his
eyes can’t and it was his name. We talked for hours over things that weren’t
matter and definitely not important and beyond the logical woman that I claimed
to be, I can’t understand why I’m dying to talk to him. The next day, with all excruciating excitement and thrill, my
eyes searched for his eyes and found a familiar built standing to the next
room. With all curiosity, I went out and found him eyeing to the new girl in
the next room. I went back to my room and wished I didn’t look back when those
eyes were on me.
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