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
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