The whirlpool

The whirlpool.

She was the first thing his eyes saw when they opened. For a few moments, he was lost. Who was this? Then he remembered.

She was the woman, goddammit, he had spent the night  with. The flashback to the long long  wild love making, made him hot and excited again. The index finger of his left hand traced an Involuntary line across her body neck down wards. She stirred in her sleep, mumbling but did not wake up.

What a surprise packet she turned out to be, he mused. She was not a virgin, of that he could be sure. He, of course was not..If anything he was opposite of virgin. He had lost it eons ago, and been with many women in his eventful life, but today, for once, he found his mind going back to his first love and the first time, they had sex.

For him, it was real as real could be. They were  both  virgins. The courtship had gone for almost eight months, before she was finally ready. He had patiently waited till then.

After that there was no stopping them, and if he did not have to leave town, two years later,  for his first job, perhaps they would have been a proper  married couple.

But it wasnt meant to be. One  unusually  harried day, when he was doing too many things at one time, she had called him, to complain about him, once again, and created yet another scene.

You don't love me, if you did, you would keep ignoring me the way you do... her high pitched voice from the other end, had sounded exceedingly desperate. It was helplessly painful in its sharp histerical accusation. Some where in that mostly one sided  conversation, he knew they were not meant to be. It was just a matter of time, before they finally broke up.

Years later, he had often wondered, if he hadn't been so embroiled in his job at that point of time, would they have survived?

He couldn't be sure. What he was sure about was that he never fell in love again. Not to the endless depth he had the first time around. After that he had always played, keeping his heart safe. More or less.

Each later woman, taught him the wisdom of putting less and less intimacy into the relationship and  It even got easier with time.

She, on the other hand, was somebody who also had her fair share of sorrows in love, but had that unique quality to raise from the ashes, like the proverbial pheonix. The passion she poured Into each of her relationships was awe inspiring, if it  wasn't scary.

He instinctively knew, she was one of those, if he kept meeting,  would suck him into the whirlpool. Her fierce loyalties, her fiery love making, her spontaneity all amazed him. he could see that she had the ability to put herself fully into any relationship, mind, body, soul, without being effected by  lack of equal participation from the other side.  It was bound to become infectious. He would have to get away, before he reached any close. But he also knew that the whirlpool was still far far away.

She woke up to see him staring at her absentmindedly. As if reading his thoughts, she said, don't worry, it's not a trap.  that is how I am, glorious, when in love,  I can't be any different, and neither can you. And for us to remain happy, both of us need to remain us. 

He smiled, his conditioned polite smile, while his heart leaped a little. Perhaps, he could face the whirlpool.  Maybe just this time, maybe, he would get  the right blend lucky. And maybe finally, fall in love again.