There was an unspoken hesitation that we both shared in discretion, something that did not allow us to look each other in the eye and unleash the shackles that bind us together or away from each other. He would always walk a step behind me, hands fiddling and eyes that wouldn’t stop at one place, too deluded for an ardent person that he was. I never overcame the abyss and lulled deeper into the magnetism of his orthodoxy. After the shrouds of dubiousness settled on the temple of our sagacity, we would start innocuous conversations and try holding on to the last threads of the knots that held us together. He prayed before we would start eating, some good 5 minutes, peace washed over his face like that’s where he belonged, I was a little too much for his world and the sense of that belittled me. Time and again. He shied away from the television except when it was Soccer, I could see how he cringed and jostled into everything in sheer excitement. He also accompanied me for romantic movies where he looked little towards the television and more towards the balcony. But he stayed. He stayed for me, for little things I loved and he loathed. He was a concoction of the little sounds that we share, a conclusion of all the years we spent together in our house, on these hills and away into his mind space.
I wake up everyday to not have him asleep with me under covers, and that’s that. I don’t expect him to do what he doesn’t want to do, he doesn’t expect me to be disappointed for what he flounders to give me. We’re a team. We fail but we choose each other day after day, year after year and for this lifetime and the next.