Remember to forget

She was introduced to him, one afternoon, at the club she frequented. He was there as a guest of one of the members. She looked into his eyes, daring him to stare back. She had that unnerving habit. Most people were distracted by her formidable front and those who managed to raise their eyes further up to look at her face almost always turned away, scorched by her steady gaze. But he looked right back into her eyes with those intense, Al Pacino eyes and he smiled. “Hmm…one of those decent ones.” she thought. Someone was saying something about ordering lunch and asked how many preferred vegetarian food. She raised her arm as usual thinking she was always the only one and was mildly surprised to see him raise his arm too. A fellow vegetarian! Imagine that! Why did that make her so happy? Did it? Why else was she grinning back at him, then? Because he was smiling at her. Yes, but there was no need to look so eager, was there? He'd think she was a retard. Since when did she care what others thought, anyway? No, not others. Just him. Snap out of it! She got caught up with arranging lunch and discussing her role for the forthcoming sessions with others.

She’d been stealing glances at him all afternoon; those luscious locks of crinkly, jet black hair; that coy, little smile; those broad shoulders; that 2 day old stubble that was almost a beard… Was she as desperate as she sounded? No! Stop it! “It’s just because he’s new. I am probably bored of looking at the same old faces. That’s what it is. Silly of me to think I am really interested! Ha! Me? Interested in some guy just because he looked me in the eye and didn’t avert his gaze? I don’t even like guys with long hair or who aren’t clean shaven. So why did I like this one? Who said I liked him? I did. I just did! Oh my God! Take it back, you!” The meeting ended and someone was offering to drop her back home. She was never going to see him again anyway. She gathered up her things, relieved at the thought of going home and away from this… this person who disturbed her. She didn’t like questioning or doubting herself. Things would go right back to normal now, anyhow. She confirmed the date for when the group would meet next. She bid them goodbye and walked out quickly, clutching her bag to herself.

That night, as she slept, she forced herself to remember all that she’d burnt into her memory. “Remember!” she commanded herself, “Remember the pain! Remember the humiliation! Remember what was done to you. Remember what happened the first time. Remember what you vowed. You are strong. You can withstand anything. You have no urges, no attachments and no expectations. You live for yourself. You think for yourself. You are complete and you are perfect the way you are. You don’t need anyone. Always remember the pain…the pain…the pain…”

His eyes bore into hers. And as he looked into her eyes, he reached out to touch her face. She didn’t flinch as she expected herself to. His hands felt warm against her cold skin. His thumb caressed her cheek and those eyes hypnotized her. She couldn’t look away. She dared not blink. His eyes made love to her and she couldn’t do anything about it. His touched her lips with his thumb. She could taste the saltiness of his skin, wanting to bite him. His hands moved down the sides of her face, down to her throat. Suddenly, his face cracked and the skin fell off in bits as another face emerged. His hands grew tighter around her neck as she recognized this new face as an old one. She tried to scream but he was already choking her. “Please don’t! Don’t hurt me! I’ll do it! I’ll do whatever you want!” she wanted to beg but of course she could only utter choked groans. She tried to look at him and plead with her eyes and all she saw was maddening rage splashed on his face. She screamed and opened her eyes to blinding darkness. She was in her bed. That wasn’t real, she had been dreaming. Just a dream. She got up and switched on all the lights in the house. Then she drank some water. Just a dream, she kept telling herself, trying to calm down. It was 3 am. She walked around the house, checking behind doors, under the dining table, inside the bathroom. Nothing. Not even an ant. It was just a dream. She was safe. Safe? Ha! She didn’t believe a word of that nonsense but she couldn’t bring herself to think anymore. So she sat and watched TV till it was time for her to get ready for work.

Later that day, the questions came tumbling back to haunt her again. How could she have dreamt that this guy would turn into that man? Man? No, monster. Why did she still have nightmares about that fiend? It had been 3 years and she still wasn’t over it. She must have lost it because she believed that this one wasn’t like that hoodlum. How, in heaven’s name, did she know? She just did. And that was that. She smiled at having triumphed over herself.

She was back at the club. Her eyes searched for him as soon as she stepped in and was extremely disappointed at not having found him. But she already knew that he wouldn’t be there. She tried to get involved in the proceedings of the meeting but her heart wasn’t in it. One of the oldest members called for everyone’s attention. He began lecturing on the quality of the work they were coming up with – it wasn’t good enough. Especially hers. She looked up to see everyone looking at her, incredulous. She didn’t know how to react. Perhaps she was bad and didn’t know it. She didn’t have anyone else’s work to compare it with! But people had told her she was doing well. She accepted the old man’s accusations and managed to say that she would try and do better. He moved on to other people. She was still very confused. Then, the lady in charge of the project, spoke, “To hell with the world! If anyone tells me that we aren’t doing a good enough job, I am simply going to say to them, ‘Tough Luck!’ I am proud of all of you and we don’t care about meeting any standards. We set our own standards.” Such unconditional support! She felt like the lady had said all this just for her. She couldn’t hold back her tears. No one had ever been this empathizing. When she turned away from the group to hide her tears, she saw him. He was looking at her. She walked away and locked herself in the bathroom.

When she emerged 10 minutes later, red nosed and puffy eyed, he was right outside, waiting for her. “You okay?” he asked her. She nodded, pleased and embarrassed. “Maybe we should step out for a bit. The fresh air will do you good.” he said. She nodded again. He walked half a step behind her as they headed towards the door and then held it open for her. She was impressed. She’d never known anyone so well-mannered. They walked side by side, a foot apart and looking at nothing in particular with not a word spoken between them. She felt the need to explain herself but his presence was so comforting that he made her feel like he understood. She wondered whether his hands were as warm as she had dreamed and not watching her step, slipped. He made no move to touch her but offered his hand. She steadied herself and threw him an infinitesimal smile to convey that she was okay and looked away. There was a bookshop right up ahead and he asked her if they didn’t mind going there. She loved books. So did he, he said. “Never mind his hands, his smile is warm enough for me.” she thought. They spent over two hours in the store, discussing authors, favorite books, recommending a few good ones to each other, poking fun at incredulous titles, testing each other, learning about the other’s tastes, exploring each other’s minds.

The more they talked, the more they realized how similar they were. Not just in terms of likes and dislikes, but also opinions, thoughts and feelings. They shared philosophies and criticisms, ambitions and desires, even favorite languages and numbers! They were incredulous at first, how could two people from such different backgrounds, with nothing in common, be so alike? They were almost like twins, no, like clones.

They met everyday from then on. It became harder for her to hold herself back. How could she? He wrote her poetry, he sang to her, he took her on long walks and still made no move to touch her. She was swept off her feet. He made her feel like a woman, a beautiful woman, a desirable woman even. She knew he was the one. Did he feel the same way? She dared not breach the subject for fear of driving him away. That evening, she invited a couple of her friends over, wanting to introduce him to them. The introductions over, one of her girlfriends asked, “So, what are you two? Like a couple or something?” Before she could open her mouth to reply, he put his arm around her shoulders and said, “Yes. We are a couple.”

They made love that night. She cried afterward. He worried that he had hurt her but she assured him that it wasn’t so. She was crying because he had been so gentle with her, because she felt fragile and cherished, because it was perfect.

The next morning she declared that he should meet her parents and she would like to meet his. Without missing a beat he said, “Great! I can’t wait! How about this weekend? We could drive down to meet your parents and meanwhile I’ll talk to my parents and find out when would be convenient for them. Okay?” She felt her heart would burst for joy.

He was late. They were supposed to have met at 7 pm at the bookshop where they had their first “date”. And he was always extremely punctual, to the second. It was unusual that he was not on time, but she knew he would come. She saw an old couple walk by, squabbling. She smiled and thought to herself, “How cute! We are going to grow old together, just like that couple, but we won’t squabble. Never ever!” And she sat down to wait.