Blind Love: Behind the Touch

Love doesn't always come in the form of a lover. Love comes in many forms in life. Maybe we don't always understand it. It has happened to me too. Once or more than once. Around 2009, when I was in love, whenever I got a chance, I would sneak into my lover's bedroom or walk hand in hand on the huge sheet of railway tracks, that was when another love began. But I didn't understand. We talk together every day, sharing our likes and dislikes, but I didn't understand that another love was peeking into my life in the guise of a perfect love. The girl also cleared it and never said anything to me. After that, there was a long gap. 2013. I was empty since the end of the old love. Life was going well with some memories of the old lover. Suddenly one day, I met that girl at Dhanmondi Lake. Along with her lover. It was like rain without a cloud. A gap of almost three years. A lot had changed in between. Physical structure, mental maturity. We were much more mature then to understand the complexities of the world. Suddenly I felt that I was not well. I was just pretending to be well. Carrying the memories of the past and being truly well are not the same thing. Since the arrival of the girl, the rhythm has suddenly started returning to life. As long as I am by her side, it is as if heaven surrounds me. At that time, I am working as a medium in full swing. The various complexities of the profession, crookedness, competition. At the end of the day, I appear in front of her house with all kinds of mental frustration, fatigue. She smiles a little sweetly and touches me. The fatigue of the whole day seems to disappear into the air. Just like a tonic. Every day, I go and stand in front of her house, craving this tonic. Night- 9, 10, sometimes 11 o'clock. We both realized that we are in love with each other. But we cannot say it out loud. Standing side by side, we both can understand each other's heartbeat. I understand the language of the eyes. But speaking out loud is forbidden. We sit side by side in a rickshaw, but we are forbidden to touch each other. As the days go by, love grows stronger. Baskets of words accumulate in our minds. All the words are not expressed in the end. We sit on the bank of the lake and talk for hours. But that small word is not said. I understand that friendship is no longer a friendship. I understand that the relationship has become a little more than friends. Suddenly one day, both of us realize that we are making a mistake. Day by day, we are getting stuck in a complicated relationship. There is another person living between us. He is not exactly like us. He is better than us. We have no right to cheat on the boy. We cannot do that. You cannot be happy by hurting others. I went to an older brother who studied psychology for advice. He said, "It is not your fault. Of course there was a gap in their relationship. Otherwise, you would not have had a chance to enter. Let him make the decision." I explained to him for a long time, but he did not listen. But when I was about to sink, he also realized that we should return now. He started to get up to send me abroad. He said - I have to go abroad. Otherwise, we will keep making mistakes. I never had a very strong dream of studying abroad. But I couldn't stay in the country anymore. I left the country. I left him long before leaving the country. Stop seeing him, stop talking. Before coming abroad, we met for the last time at that restaurant on the third floor of Aziz Supermarket. I remember very well that year, angry with him, I cut my hair and dressed up in a messy way before Saraswati Puja. There was no need to dress myself up smartly. But even then, holding the hand of an unsmart, bald-headed boy, he walked around the Jagannath Hall Puja fair for the entire afternoon, evening, and until midnight. He introduced himself to everyone in a strange manner. Even now, tears well up in my eyes when I think of that happy day. After coming from the country, we haven't met or spoken to each other since. We are no longer anyone's today. Maybe that love waiting to blossom will remain that way forever. No one will ever know. Their couple's pictures float across f*******: pages. I see it. I have a kind of feeling. I don't know if it's good or bad. It feels good to know that she is happy, that I have been able to make her life carefree. Maybe I was able to rediscover myself with her touch. But my pure friendship is gone. Be well, Tom Boy. Endless love for you on Valentine's Day.