And I’m back! Whew, was 2012 the wildest year yet or what? I got my college diploma, passed the board exams, and I’m teaching now in the very same university. I admit, I haven’t had much time to do some blog-hopping and spamming but I’d I’m announcing that 2013 is my blogging year! I’ll try to roll out posts once a week (time to unearth all those little snippets wasting away in the back pages of my notebooks!) and I’ll definitely revisit all those dear bloggers who have been of much support in the past.
Taking story prompts from the weirdest places on the internet. Cheers, we foolish romanticists.
Koi no Yokan (Japanese):
The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love. Differs from “love at first sight” as it does not imply that the feeling of love exists, only the knowledge that a future love is inevitable.
He knew the end before it even began.
He searches for the right answers to questions that have not yet been asked. Is it in her hair, her eyes, the gentle slope of her shoulder, the valley of her neck, or her secret smiles that told him of a story in a language he has not yet learned but eventually will? Really, there is nothing special about her that should even warrant his attention. He knows this and sees this and feels this and still, he cannot escape the horizon.
He attempts to decipher the mysteries between the spaces of her fingers, the secret language in the way she tucks her hair behind her ear and kneads others’ hands when she is idle – but he does not find any resolution there. How can she own a part of his future when he himself can scarcely even see it?
He finds no answers. What he has is the knowledge of before and of before that and of after everything and of the present which he takes out and turns over and over and under in his hands until they’re red raw and bleeding dry. All he has is memory.
There was the jolt, the jump, and then there was the quiet resolution, the settling of a heavy weight beneath his breast which he carries willingly – it reminds him of the presence of something he has waited for all of his life. He bears not a white flag that speaks of his defeat but more of a relief that he has found her. Or that she found him. It is a quiet sort of happiness, the kind that he finds in a baby’s laugh, in ice cream and summer nights, in cold mornings with blankets and hot chocolate and in her eyes, in the breaths she take, in her life and her and everything-
There are no fireworks, no fanfare. There is no uncontrolled hurtling into space and cataclysmic collision. Rather, it was a falling into step into an orbit that he knew of even before his time on earth. There is the inevitability, a tugging on his heartstrings that would have brought him to his knees once upon another time, when he was a different man with a different face and a different heart. Now, it keeps him afloat in sleepless, pitiless nights, when all he has is memory to keep his sanity in check.
She asks him about the new knowledge brimming behind his changed eyes and for the barest of moments he considers letting her in on the secret. But he keeps the moment to himself, waiting for the time when the irony will catch up with him and sweep him off his feet. He hopes to fall in with her when it happens.
He wonders when was the exact moment he knew he would eventually come to love her.