Is it the end? It is never the end

The sun was setting, the light dawning upon us – ‘So that’s it then?’ she asked in absolute numbness.

‘I believe so’, I nodded and sat down beside her.

‘It had been long anyway’, she looked down at the rock under her shoe. It was a funny thing. Many things drowned with the sun, but we were a poignant kind of happy. She rested her hand on my knee and we talked about everything we had been through together.

‘No more books and canteens then’, I laughed. I realized that as soon as we get up and begin to walk, we will be on a different journey, and this would be over.

‘It’s like the end of an era’ she did not sound happy, but she had always known that it had to end. Both of us knew. We could either be sad or be welcoming.

‘It will never be the end’ I comforted her.

We got up and began to walk. I sighed, it was almost pitch dark. I looked at her, and she at me. It was all over and both of us had accepted it. We are going to lead a different life now.

‘That rock looks great on you’, I wrapped my arm around her shoulder.

‘Thanks, on you too. I think I have a better choice than you’, she laughed.

‘I think I made the best choice’, I whispered. We had finally begun our new lives – together.



The Oceans Called It

It was finally time to set sail. Bikini, check, Suntan lotion, check, and a lot of water, check. It was going to be a vacation of sorts – I thought to myself.

Puerto Rico would host us for a week. It had been long since our family had gone on a vacation. We packed our bags into the trunk of our car and headed towards the port.

Calmly, we waved goodbye to the city and began the voyage. The sun was as bright as ever, and the sea was a joy in itself. I took a bucket load of photographs to hang on the wall once we got home. Sigh, only a week.

All four of us hadn’t been together in very long.

While we danced on the deck and obeyed the Captain’s instructions, I sometimes felt a blurred reality of the Titanic come to us when the ship swayed angrily with the tide. I have to admit, that scared me.

The nights would be long and scary, but everything about that ship made it worth it. The days had started feeling longer. Sometimes I would forget what day we were at.

‘Hey! Come here, I guess I see the shore!’ my father called out to me. Excitedly, I ran towards him, but he had mistaken a group of insignificant islands to be home. I smiled at him and walked back to my room.

I have sea shells in my bag, and pictures to fill the whole house. It felt like a trip that wouldn’t end.

Today is the eighty-ninth day of what was supposed to be a weeklong vacation, and I am waiting for my father to call out to me again.

‘Though initially, we wished it would never end, now I wonder when we will be home’ – I wrote in my diary as we floated in the triangle between Bermuda, Florida, and Puerto Rico.

The First Night’s Brew

It started off innocent. I had no idea what I was getting into. It became all that I wanted all through the day and the night.

It began on the date of our first night together. I had never met something so taxing and tough before. I tried preparing myself by the educated methods of breathing, drinking water, and everything I could, but nothing seemed to calm my nerves.

‘What a night it would be’, I thought to myself as I scanned through as many as fifty different emotions in my head. I thought it might be the dress I was wearing – giving too much away for the first night, so I changed into something more comfortable, I went with stripes.

I felt a little nauseous at the thought of how it was going to go, I could have vomited but when is that ever a good sign? I plugged my phone into the speakers and put on some music. Serenading myself, I swayed across the room, trying to get into the vibe.

I shuffled through the bed sheets, and shuffled a pen between my fingers to satisfy my fidgety arousals. I even considered calling it off or delaying it claiming I was unwell or anything of the sort – that seemed like an easy way out. Instead, I ended up calling my friend. You know how they say misery loves company; I thought I would get some decent advice apart from the usual ‘stay calm, just be yourself, and everything will be alright’.

I heard attentively while she suggested ways to go around it. She gave me tips – it could be the lighting, maybe the music, or that I should add a little energy to the room and everything. I considered it too.

I sat down and stared into the light, I went online and looked for ways to prepare myself for the night – and I saw it! I decided to go for it. I walked out and looked for the most aesthetic cups. I laid out a box and the sugar jar. I blended everything as the site suggested, and there it was – a steamy, lip smacking cup of coffee.

It looked so inviting; I carried it over to my table and sat staring into the table light. There lay my books for the next day’s exam along with all of my friend’s advice. With my hair in a bun, and my most comfortable striped pyjamas on – I flipped through the pages of my tenth grade science textbook with a spirit I would say I never had before.

It was addictive, I relied on it time and again, and there was my life in front of my eyes – a lifelong partner in all times – happy, sad, bored, not bored, no reason at all! Just the kind of thrill and commitment I needed in my life – an obsession with hot cups of coffee, any time of the day.