For You, A Thousand Times Over

By Bhavya Mehta

The first time I imagined the idea of sharing a home with a person

 was when I fell in love with a boy who had a beard....this long,

 so the society said no, they said,

 how will you share a home with one boy and two gods?

The second time I fell in love was with someone

 who used to love to play with the roadside puppies

 and knew exactly how to braid my hair

 because she had long hair too,

 so the society said no, they said,

 how will you share a home with one God and one woman?

The third time I was too afraid to fall in love

 so they arranged love for me,

 under the immense blue sky and among the beautiful pastels,

 I ran back to my room, opened my wardrobe,

 took out a red dress and from the closet behind that,

 I took out a smile and decorated it on my face,

 and walked into a home with one man and one god, 

 they are beautiful,

 they are so beautiful that it took my breath away,

 so much so that it was suffocating.

1,2,3..

 1,2,3..

I saved my breaths and stored them in a jar like a little child

 and took one out each time my beautiful man

 gave me beautiful scars,

 sometimes on my neck,

 sometimes under my eye,

 sometimes on my head and 

 sometimes under my thigh.

I go back to my room, open my closet

 and neatly fold back my smile and

 even though I never really understood those makeup tutorials,

 my concealer and my foundation were the only substitutes for my broken smile.

I go to my bed, 

 turn right, twist to left

 close my eyes, blink twice

 wait up for a text or look out for a friend, 

 unlock the chaos let the demons kick in and

 talk me into a catastrophe -

 a little more damaging than last night maybe,

 and with a glass of water and two pills, this time,

 I do not swallow my pride

"For you, a thousand times over,"

 that's what Hosseini said and that's exactly what I did,

 I threw my baggage out and made space for theirs,

 drank the bitter from the bottle and

 gave them all of the sweetness,

 went to the top and jumped back down,

 to make sure I catch them when they fall.

For you, a thousand times over. 

 But maybe not this time, 

 because maybe I am tired now,

 and maybe because it's the thousand and one time now.

By Bhavya Mehta