dear mr fantasy

i love you. i love you. i love you.

perhaps this is insignificant to you, but i don’t believe so.

you know those moments where we thought that you and i will never meet again?

well, you appeared in my thoughts today.

and we all know that thoughts don’t randomly appear.

so clearly, our narratives are not over.

and today, i felt like saying “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

you were much older. you attended the greatest university on planet earth.

and you were my first lover. first proper one anyway.

but boy oh boy, you had no idea.

let’s rewind this tape, i don’t want to forget –

 

he said, “there’s a party. come with me.”

so affirmative, so incredibly sexy on that bike of his.

red cups strewn across the floor, all these young minds gazed and lazed about.

way past midnight, way past curfew of this seventeen year old girl.

hell, there’s a first for everything, they say.

people started to leave, souls started to cry for companionship.

“another drink at mine?” he asked.

innocence was the card she held, adventure was the suit she wanted to play.

crossing that field, hearts began to race and they began to pace.

droplets of vodka, ubiquitous guitars in his room.

books and novels, stories and plans filled every single corner of this premise of love.

they lighted a joint, sang songs of sorrow.

the chemistry was palpable, the white noise became louder.

the oxygen became thinner, the space closed on them.

he leaned over for a kiss. she stopped him.

he leaned over again. this time, she didn’t stop him.

it was a night of amour, a night of unfinished business.

fast forward three weeks and a day, he called her after his trip.

she was at a concert, he was on his bike.

long nights fell upon them and she had to leave soon.

discussions varied, ideas exchanged; she could not resist any longer.

the next morning, they played his guitar together.

the emotions ran deep, his buddhist outlook fascinated her.

tall, unshaven; armed with a brilliant mind, compassionate soul.

have you ever felt those infinite moments? it was one of them then and there,

when they kissed goodbye, on the very field that initiated it all.

she left without a last look, without regret.

because those summer nights taught her something.

this life is only a fantasy.

 

tonight, dressed in an oriental sleeping gown,

you are once again on my mind.

it was not a lost love, it was pure love.

what we felt then and there was infinite.

“dear mister fantasy, play us a tune.”

and we did just that.

 

19 thoughts on “dear mr fantasy”

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