By P.R. Sesa a.k.a Asta
Then there I was; sitting on a lonely bench in a crowded park. I can vividly remember the first time I breathed you in—yes, inside my heart. And I could still hear the laughter of the children, the rustling of the brown and reddish leaves, and the running of excited pairs of feet.
It was autumn, and it was cold, but I did not care. I felt numb. I looked down, staring at my pale hands.
Then there you were—standing in front of me. I looked up and braved myself to stare at your face. Oh, that beautiful face. And without any warning, you smiled at me; it was the most welcoming smile I have ever received. It was genuine.
A strong force urged me to smile back. And so I did. And again, without any warning, you sat there beside me. Silence lingered, just hearing the beating of our hearts. Right there and then, million words were said—heart to heart, soul to soul.
We both sighed. We both looked at each other, eyes smiling and dancing. Then we could not help but to release gentle laughs.
“Hi,” you started, “it’s cold, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I answered back. It was the only word I could utter.
Then you continued, “Visiting someone here? Friend? Relative? Or someone special maybe?”
I shook my head and said, “No.”
Silence again. One…tick…two…tock…three…tick…
“Well?” you said, breaking the silence. You were really trying to carry on with the conversation. I could see that you also needed someone to talk to. Though smiling, there was a hint of sadness in your eyes. I sighed.
“Are you a stranger here also like me?” I asked without looking at you. I paused for a moment and then proceeded, “You know what? This country serves its very purpose. I know no one here. Everything is unfamiliar,” I exhaled then continued, “a nowhere woman in a nowhere land. This is the perfect place to think and reflect. I want to be alone and this place is just right.” Then I stared blankly.
“Uh, sorry for intruding. I–,”
“Oh no,” I immediately said before you could complete your sentence. “It’s okay. I realized I like this better,” then I smiled at you. “About my question–”
“Ah yes! Like you, well I’m also a stranger in this country. You know, just trying to unwind and think things over.”
You were still smiling while saying this. For reasons that I could not grasp, I felt safe.
“Have you ever experienced being left by someone you truly treasure?” I asked. “That after treating them like a precious stone, they will leave you as if you are a pebble, trampled on the ground.”
You cleared your throat before speaking, “Uhm yeah. In fact, I experienced it many times. The thing is that, we can never avoid it. People come and go. It is inevitable. Only few will remain. Some need to go, and we have to let them go—to let them live their lives as we live ours. We can never possess anyone.”
We were both staring at the people passing by as you spoke these words. We were surrounded by people, but it seemed that it was just the two of us.
I saw a leaf fell. Then another one…and another one. Then I spoke, “I realized that the hard way,” my voice started to quiver, “Yes it’s true. We can never possess anyone especially the ones we love the most. Possessing them will only hurt them—or the both of you.”
A tear fell from my eye. Then another one…and another one. I tried to stop the tears from falling but I could not. Finally, you handed me your handkerchief. I reached for it. You waited for some time before speaking.
“Love must be the source of freedom,” you whispered.
Silence fell between us again. Tick…tock…tick…tock…tick…tock…
“By the way, I am Andy,” you held out your hand.
I reached for it, “April. I’m April.”
We were like that for a few seconds. Leaves were rustling; the wind embracing us and blowing our hair gently.
We connected.
Body, soul, mind, and breath.
You glanced at your watch, “Well Signora April, I think it’s time for me to go. Pleasure meeting you. Ci vediamo!” then you stood up.
“Wait! Signor Andy,” I immediately stood up.
“Yes Signora?” you asked while flashing that smile; the smile that I would never forget.
“Grazie. Ci vediamo,” were the words that I could utter.
You nodded and started to walk away. I just stood there, waiting for you to vanish into the crowd.
I gazed down, my eyes on my hands. There it was—your handkerchief.
Ci vediamo. Till we meet again.
Yes. Love must be the source of freedom. And I had experienced total freedom while talking with you, my familiar stranger. Freedom to express myself, freedom to pour out my soul without worrying what others may think, and freedom to free myself.
Without any warning, I experienced love—raw and unplanned.
People come and go.
But this time, one stayed.
You and I might not meet again, but that liberating moment will forever stay in my heart.
