“I don’t write love stories nor do I read them. This is an exception. Maybe because I know the story and main character very well and was able to toil with his life of the past, present, and a proposed future that I don’t pray for him… I simply call this – A story of my heart”
In a town not far away from where I live, once lived a boy. He was a young and brilliant artist. When he was younger, he would always run away from school with his pencil and paper to the streets. His teachers would search for him, his parents too would join in the search, he was usually found at the edge of the town near the sacred forest, with his shorts soiled with dirt as he sat on the ground drawing the beautiful landscape in his books.
His father would always take him home and flog him badly, but that wouldn’t change him. Upon the advice of his teachers, the boy was bought a pen by his father with the hope he wouldn’t be able to draw with it, but that even helped the boy and in the first day, he destroyed the pen and used the ink to paint of his drawings. It ruined it, but the boy was never less happy about the new development he was seeing.
“Leave him alone, he would one day realize his stupidity and be serious about his education,” his teachers advised his parents.
To everyone amazement, the boy grew up in to a young man fast and he never dropped art. He combined it well with his education, and he became a modern renaissance man. The young man had a problem thought: he couldn’t love…
“I don’t see any lady I love,” he would always say.
His parent became worried. They wanted the young man to marry early, and they would tell him
“Whenever you see anyone you love, tell us, we would fix the rest for you.”
The young man was confused. “What does love mean? How does one know he is in love?” he would constantly ask himself.
His younger sister would say:
“Brother, you have to move out of your cage; you have to live on less personal principles; you have to learn to trust someone.”
The young man would look at himself and ask
“Is there anything I have to change in me? Nothing at all. After all, my clique members too don’t have girlfriend.”
Sometimes his younger sister would mock him that he isn’t brave enough to ask a lady out. The young man knew that wasn’t the case.
Then one day, the young man drew a beautiful painting. Everyone who saw the painting was amazed. They said it was simply a modern day “Monalisa”. The young man became proud and he wrote an inscription at the top of the painting:
“Inspired from a true vision of a lady I saw. She is a kind of lady you would see, and give up hopes even before you try… in this moment was when I got the inspiration”
His friend would laugh at the possibility of the young man having a crush. But the young man really had the crush, he wouldn’t just approach her because he felt she was too flashy, and he would never win her over…
There was this lady in the same school with the young man. In time, she became entangled with the young man and he fell in LOVE with her. He couldn’t try to tell her because he knew the lady was already seeing a guy.
Naturally, the young man hated the guy, but in time, the guy proved to be a personality to be hated. He loathed the young man, and he would paint the hatred on his face whenever he saw the young man on the street, he would refuse to even greet him. So obeying all the laws of nature, the hatred for the guy increased.
The young man kept mute, hoping that from his dreams would arise a princess that would sweep him off his feet, and make his heart feel like he was taking a slide down a rainbow. Nothing happened for a long time. The young man diverted his attention unto his paintings; he would paint the sun as it set and rose; the birds as they flew in the skies; the chicken as it went about looking for food; magnificent building… people would say:
“You are not meant for sciences, you ought to be in art”
The young man would smile whenever they said it. He knew they appreciated his talent. He too appreciated himself.
One day the lady who was in his school, whom he loved called him and told him that she had broken up with her boyfriend. The young man was happy, but he wouldn’t show it. He knew the coast was clear for his ship to sail, but wanted to wait for a little while so the sea would be calm.
He waited and waited, but no time seemed right enough to tell her his mind. He had moved so close to her and became her friend till the point he was afraid that if he asked her out and she refused, he would jeopardise their wonderful friendship…
This fear engulfed this young man so much that it affected his paintings. He painted less, and spent most of his spare time dreaming about her. But dreams are not reality if you don’t place them in the 3D world…
The lady called the young man one day and told him she had accepted proposal from a new guy. The young man needn’t to hear twice before the turned into a river Nile, with tears overflowing the banks of eyelids…
The lady knew he was in love with him. But it was too late. She turned to him and said
“I knew you liked me, but you never loved me. Love is an attribute of the strong: when you like someone, you tell the person instantly before it is too late. That is how love is made”
The young man filled with tears ran non stopping, far away towards the edge of the village, sitting on the ground and drawing the beautiful landscapes once more, forgetting everything in the process…
Kay Greins™… © 2013