She always asked about the logical reason as to why people smile while being photographed and I used to tell her that those photographs are memories and every time they go back to see them, they have a reason to smile. The corners of your smile are the length of your happy moments and photos contain those precious bits. We portray love and compare the moon to be the epitome of distance and my love, these corners of your smile is the stretch that I want to see every time my eyes go back to the picture.
To this day, I cherish the way she laughs, giggles and makes those faces. Her nonchalant ways of smiling through the lanes of our love have kept me expressing love through words and her smiling image as the portrayal of a happy person. I have curated love quotes and ideas and ways, just to feel her. My way of giving her love was through words and till date all my expressions of a lady have been about her. She has been the wind charm of my happy tunes and me her admirer forever.
Our love was not about the relationship we had. It was beyond the clouds that one could ever imagine. We never craved to possess each other. We craved to be happy. We craved for the sanctity of love.
What we shared between us were glances. Glances of silent wishes. Glances of desire. Glances of perfection. We were together even though we never said. We were in sync with each other, even without speaking. We were one amongst the herd of silent lovers. The ones that hardly speak with each other, but pour love through the distance. We were amongst the breed of lovers that craved for moments where glancing would give the orgasm rather than rounds of sex. We never touched each other. We never kissed. We never slept together. We never had sex.
What we had was a feeling. A devotion. A wish. An emotion. Drops of happiness. Junctures of glances. It was perfect for me. To be in love without having any feeling of being attached. Without any idea of love but feelings deeper than an ocean.
Our love had no signs, our love had no boundaries. Our love never craved for touch, our love never committed any foul play. Our love was gentle, our love was wild, unlike any other.
I was in a state where all I could do was be with her. I had no work to complete other than staying in the moments of glances and walking towards her in my memory lane. My sole purpose was to look at her, day in and out. I felt better that way. I felt strong. I felt loved. But what I could never feel was her touch. Though I never craved for it then, now like a dessert I crave for her love to shower on me. Her smiling photographs have become the source of my happiness now while I remember her asking me "Why people smile while being photographed"?
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