Walking Home

1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (27 votes, average: 4.63 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading ...


They ask me: “Turning point? Seriously?”

“Yes,” I say. “That night was a turning point.”

It was the night that I fell in love.

It was the night I learned that it takes a moment for eyes to meet, a moment to smile, a moment to feel, and a moment to love.

Harry was everything I looked for, and nothing I’d looked for. He was the one who got me caught up in fantasies I’d never imagined myself building.

He was the one who made me break all the rules, and want to be everything as seen in his eyes.

Harry was the one I loved.

We sat for hours in the weeks to follow. We dreamt like all lovers did. We talked about love, friendship, life, family, money, sex and so many things.

We went to friends’ birthdays. We called each other every morning. We drove for miles. We sat under the stars. We kissed. We touched and we loved. Harry became my world, and in four weeks, I knew he was the person that was to fill up my life.

I felt him in my every bone, while rationalists called me a fool. They scorned me and laughed at my face. I’d lost my sanity, and I’d lost my reason—and I blamed love for it.

But then again, time came. But what IS time? Is it experience? Is it gold? Money?

Time is nothing. Time does not exist. It is a state of mind. That was the conclusion I’d reached. It was what my heart most desired to believe.

I also learned that faith is always questionable. And just when you put your faith in the universe, believing it will stand by your side, believing, like a fool, that the skies will never snatch away such beauty from your eyes, time takes off its invisibility cloak, laughs in your face, and calls you a fool.


Shakespeare wrote: “Out, brief candle! Life is but a walking shadow.” I say love is but a walking shadow.

Our love is a month old.

I call Harry, tell him I miss him, tell him it is our one month. I tell him I want to see him….

He tells me he loves me. He tells me it is our one month. He tells me he is busy.

I am angry, frustrated and want to break things. I lift myself, get dressed and go to work.

That bastard! It’s our one month! Our one FUCKING month, and he is busy! How could he? I would have cancelled everything for him!

I start thinking about how much giving I’ve been, and promise myself to cut it back.

I start thinking that I mean nothing to him. I start thinking his feelings are waning. I start thinking he’s met someone else. I think my way through my break while I have coffee with friends. I think my way till the end of my shift, when my best friend comes to pick me up.

We walk home, me telling him how hurt I was, and how crappy it felt. I tell him how angry, and how I really wanted to spend time with Harry on that day and I think of how much I miss him…

I tell Jad how much I love Harry. I tell him how big of an asshole he was and how much I am certain I mean nothing for him. While I was almost shouting, expressing my suppressed anger, a car pulls up across the street. It is dark, and I can’t make out any features. A bright smile flashes, and the moon is suddenly full.

“Happy one month, habibi,” he says.

- Contributed by theRibz


Leave a Reply