Autumn Love

Fatma Marzouki
Sep 7, 2018 · 3 min read

Being single doesn’t tell anything about us . It doesn’t measure neither the amount of love we can digest neither the amount of loneliness we can handle .

This is the math of being single but what’s the equation for love ? Not everyone has Love in his or her life but definitely we can love .

Yeah , let’s try to get ourselves used to it .

I love this book,

I love this cat ( even though I’m not a cat person ) ,

I love days of endless rain ,

I love this person ,

I love his smile ( He has the best smile I’ve ever saw , the way his eyes shrinks his lips reveals the best set of teeth as his hand descends to touch that well ‘GOD-LIKE” beard , DAYMN !),

I love his dorkiness,

I love …

Anyway , I wasn’t going to allow myself to imagine what would be like to be on his side listening to the backstreet boys songs or reading Colleen Hoover books( he is not the type who reads books ) and say the magical sentence ‘ I love you since the first day Isaw you “ or “ it feels like I’ve known you since forever ‘ … No I don’t like it to be that way and I don’t want to be that kind of writers who dream about things because the truer the facts the better the [story ] ( Virginia Woolf ).

I want to know what loving him feels like . No dreams or fantasies are allowed ( I’m good at creating fantasies and I’m holding myself from turning this into a fantasy ) . I don’t want to make out of him a character for my story or someone who occasionally visits my heart , my mind and every part of my body .

-How do you know that you’re in love ?

- the eyes

I’ve always believed in that line “ They eyes, chico , they never lie “(If you’re a Scarface fan you’ll recognize that line from when Tony Montana tells his best friend Manny he’s sure his boss’s wife Elvira likes him) . . But this time the line lost its charm as his gaze always shifts, to meet everything except mine .If it ever happens by some sort of magic that our gazes meet , I lose all my acquired skills at trying to figure out what the hell his eyes are telling .

Still I’m met with a brownish dreamy shield that stops me from diving inside of him . ( by the way he has the softest hands I’ve ever held ).

I admit it , I’m the one who stare at him silently and get lost in his fine features . I wouldn’t say that I stare at him whenever it’s possible but I would say I GAZE at him because it’s more romantic . I didn’t mind stealing glances at him smiling at the non-supposed-things- to-smile –about .

The way he shifts his gaze , shifts from one thing to another as he notices everything but act like don’t. I wonder if he likes to feel my eyes on him but what I wonder the most is if he will act like he didn’t notice me when I leave, when this short love story ends.. .

Mine didn’t take place in heaven but it was on earth between the autumn leaves that’s why I will call him my autumn love .

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