Some people believe, that if you have no regrets, you have not lived, and while I understand the perspective, I think that such a perception is maintained by one who doesn’t truly appreciate the present. — Personally, I’ve taken the chances, the risks, and despite my recklessness, I have no regrets. My life and actions weren’t flawless, but I’m satisfied with the outcome.

I’ve made many mistakes. I’ve hurt those that I previously perceived to be undeserving of those pains I created. I’ve felt much sorrow, shed many tears, and repented for my sins. I’ve even structured my life, in such a way that I could make up for atrocities I’ve committed. — Despite those actions, if I had the chance, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Or at least, that’s what I used to think.

In life, every action has a reaction; every single thing we do or did leads us to the present. A single shift in movement could create a very different existence. — If we truly appreciate where we are, why would we want to change that which we enjoy? We often ask for things, that once we get it, we realize we didn’t truly want it. We didn’t understand, what it meant to have it.

Regardless, some desire that difference.

We’ve all thought something akin to, “maybe if I didn’t say that to her/him we would still be together”, and despite our fantasy of what should be, things don’t always work out as we perceive.  It’s possible that things would’ve been ‘better’, it’s possible it might’ve been ‘worse’ and ended regardless. — I percieve, what’s meant to be, is and will be. That regardless of how much we try to defy and fight life, things that aren’t meant to work out … won’t. — So although I’ve had such thoughts, I’ve never harped on it.

Instead, I reminisce, smile, and then keep it moving.

Maybe my stance is one of fear, maybe my actions are fueled by it. The lack of desire to break my comfort; since afterall, I’m content with what exists. My hands-on approach to life, and my recklessness doesn’t negate that possibility. The fact is, I’m hands-on with some things, even most things … hands-off with few, and still those few could be because I’m afraid. The irony is, my hands-on aspects could be fueled by fear also.

Regardless, this isn’t about the dissolution of my delusions.

Rather, this is about sharing a different conclusion. — In looking at the things I’ve achieved, and lost, the costs I’ve paid, and choices I’ve made … I realize that there is something that I’d change. — This desire didn’t exist in me previously, but came with maturity and security. I understand that things could be much ‘better’, for others, yet ‘harder’ for me; that maybe it could result conversely.

And yet, I don’t mean it any less.

For if, I could do it all again … I’d surrender more to love. And since, changing the past is not in my conscious abilities, I’ve instead decided to apply it to the present. Even if I’m abused, even if I ‘lose’, completely … for those I love, I will give up:

nothing less, than everything.

I do not believe this is the ‘right’ thing to do, nor do I perceive it’s what you should do. Not at all, this is simply my desire, and now, my preference … because I believe, you, are not worth … less.

Believe what you want.

- Prasand J.

Three boys are home sitting idly, when one suggests that they do something. They exchange ideas as to what should be done, and although they partly like the ideas … they don’t exactly agree. So one boy suggests something neutral. “Let’s go camping”, he says. The other two find this interesting, and one asks why. So he says, “you want to relax, and you want hazard, while I want to play. If we go camping there’s all of that and more.” The other two boys emphatically agree, and so they go off on their journey.

–

As they arrive to their site, they see that there’s a river of life where many are congregating. So they decide to join everyone at that scene. Upon reaching the shore … they see others purchasing inner tubes, so that they can float along the river. They quickly grab tubes, and attempt to step into the flow. However, when they try to mount their tubes the three realize that they are too heavy to float.

They sink, and eventually discard their rudimentary rafts.

One boy is fast enough that he can skate on top of the water. However, he doesn’t feel like bothering … because he came to relax. So he steps out of the water, and sits along the bank. The other two stand there, and one says, “I’ll walk.” The other asks why, and he says, “because I want to see it.” The other says, “but you already know what’s there.” So he says, “but I want to experience it.” “But you’ll get hurt in the process.” “I know.” “Why not just stay here, and play?” “Because my movements are cumbersome, and my hands are hard … I’ll hurt the other children.” “But that walk is long, and tiresome.” “Then stay here, I’ll be back. The river is circular and splits into three paths. I’ll take the shorter route, and will tell you what I learned when I return.”

Reluctantly, one boy steps out of the water … and the other begins to walk, moving faster than the flow, but not fast enough to skate … and so … he trudges along. The other sees another group of three children, and goes over to talk to them. Occasionally he looks back, and sees his friend who is walking away. This bothers him, because he wanted him to stay. However, the other kids pull on his arms and he focuses on the moment. They laugh, and play as the boy who’s relaxing, watches.

In the midst of playing, the boy falls and scrapes his knee. He begins to cry because it’s the first time he broke skin. The other children are laughing, because they’ve fallen many times, and now they have someone to make themselves feel better about those memories. Except for the little girl that’s with them. She bends down, and wipes off his knee with her white dress. He stops crying, amazed by this gesture, captivated by her presence. The other kids call him names, but he no longer hears them. He stands up, as she holds his hand. The other boys become jealous of the attention he’s getting, and so they try to push him.

However, he’s much heavier than them and they just fall in their attempts to move him. The little girl wants to ride the river, and the little boy wants to join her. He runs and grabs them new inner tubes, trying to get himself a bigger one. He steps into the river, lays her inner tube down, and helps her mount it. He tries to climb on top of his … but he just sinks again. He throws away the inner tube, but determined … he decides to walk along-side.

But his strides are short, and she is light.

Realizing this, he lets go of her hand and smiles … and as she struggles to hold on, she spins in his direction, crying as she floats away facing him. They keep eye contact for as long as he can see. No longer by her side, he steps out of the river, and the other two boys rush and try to catch up. Eventually they do, trying to impress her by bragging and showing her their muscles … but she knows that they are light and as such, unstable. So she partly entertains, but longs for the little boy that waits along the bank.

Seeing that she’s not truly paying them mind, the boys stop struggling to keep up with her … and because she’s lighter than them, she floats away. A few hours later, she catches up to the boy that’s walking in the river. He sees her with tears in her eyes, and he turns her inner tube so that she faces forward in the river. He points to the bird that’s perched in a tree slightly in front of them, and tells her it’s story that he learned previously. She’s entertained, but not happy, since all he can do is show her, but not truly experience it with her … because his hands are hard, and movements are cumbersome.

He shifts his stride, and is able to keep up with her … but she wants to linger for awhile, and so he steadies her pace. Eventually he hears the boys behind him, and they curse in vain at the sight of them together. They are insignificant to him, because they are behind. So he does not even acknowledge their existence, until he sees her cry … and begins to hear the names that they are calling her. The boy stops, turns around and waits. She is steady, still as he … and as the other boys approach, he punches them in the face, and throws their inner tubs onto the bank. — The boy and girl turn away and he walks with her, keeping stride until he gets tired. Over-worked and weary, eventually they too part ways … and as she leaves, he doesn’t know if she’s crying or happy, because all he can see is her back … but he wonders, and hopes.

–

Along the bank the two boys sit, and the one who’s relaxing asks him, “what are you doing?” He says, “I’m taking a break.” “No, I mean why do you play?” “Because it’s fun.” “Okay”, and as he says that another group of children approach. Two little girls join them, and they talk while the other two girls stand off together. One little girl says, “I can’t stand her.” And so the little boy who plays says, “I can see why. Look at her, she thinks she’s too good to partake, but her clothes so ragged and hair unkempt. She has nothing on you.” The little girl smiles, but he really likes her eyes … so blue. — The other boy and girl are having their own conversation. She is entertained, but doesn’t appreciate his presence. Nonetheless, he partakes despite this knowledge.

The boy in the distance, quickly approaches two children … one who’s bullying the next. He says to the boy who’s being bullied, “if you aren’t willing to fight, then you do not deserve your life.” He asks the one who’s bullying, “why are you doing that?” He says, “because he’s weak and it’s funny.” “It’s all a matter of perception, and preference … but realize that by time you end this journey, I will have lapped you thrice.” — The other boy hates this idea. He thinks the other boy perceives himself to be so great, even though he knows that the one who relaxes would’ve lapped him twice, and the other boys six times. However, he doesn’t care about the boy’s judgement, and so he persists, “and know that there’s another boy that you cannot see, who’s already at the place where we are going. He plays, while you stress another’s existence.” He walks away, as the other boy curses him … but the one who curses stops bullying the other.

The subject of ridicule, he approaches a little girl, as he sees her fall off her tube. Gasping for air, she tries to climb back on, but the tube just flips. She tries to swim but the current is too strong and drags her in. He runs and picks her up, placing her upon his left shoulder. He steadies the tube, but notices it’s not firm. So he tells her, “your tube may have a leak, and as such you’ll continually fall over unless you replenish it.” He inflates her tube until it’s firm enough, but not so much that it capsizes easily … making sure it can still conform to her body. He rips off his sleeve and ties it around the area which he perceives to have the leak. He places her on it, and leaves. She does not appreciate this, and resents him for helping her. Then in hindsight he turns around and says, “there’s a boy on the bank, when you get to where you’re going, talk to him. You will probably like him more than me. Just know, his selfishness may clash with your own. If you know that, you’ll be free to enjoy the benefit of playing with him.”

Back at the bank, the children laugh and the two girls who stand off, scoff in resentment. Other little boys approach them, but they do not want this. They want the attention from the ones that their companions are getting. So one of the little boys who approached them loudly says, “forget them, they are nothing!” The one who relaxes, just listens. The other, is amused by them so he asks, “why are we nothing?” The boy retorts with his rationale, and the boy who plays makes a statement, and asks another question. The boy retorts again, building anger in the process … and so the boy who plays, laughs. Furious, the other boy mouths off even further, and he who laughs just makes another statement.

He storms off with his friend, and goes into the river.

All of the girls are impressed by this. They loved the way he handled it, and how he kept his cool. The two who were distant, decide to suck up their pride and come over. He allows it, even though he knows that their newfound smiles were once filled with spite and still might be. As they laugh, maybe those things become genuine … but eventually they too leave, and as they do with the boys waving, the one who relaxes asks, “why did you do that?” “What?” “When she said she can’t stand the other girl, why did you respond that way?” He says, “to relate, because it’s what I wanted.” He says, “okay.”

–

The boy in the river approaches another girl, to his distant “right”. He looks for a sec, and sees that she’s sitting with a butterfly perched on her finger. He finds that, and her to be amazing. So he cuts across the river, and upon meeting her she says, “they always seem to come around me, and I wonder why.” He says, “maybe because they like your presence. Insects, animals and people can sense such things.” She smiles, and asks him, “why are you walking?” “Because I’m too heavy to float.” “Then, why are you walking so fast?” “Because there are others waiting.” She says, “then keep your pace” and as such, she jumps into the river, and paddles while holding onto the tube. He says, “I can carry you if you get tired.” She says, “I may take you up on that.” “Cool.”

The boys at the bank, the one who relaxes … sees a girl who piques his fancy. She’s with another girl, and so the boy who plays approaches them, but at first they do not pay him much mind. So he pulls out a bouquet of roses from nothing. Amazed, one asks him, “how did you do that?” He says, “it’s magic, and a magician doesn’t divuldge his secrets.” However, she persists and then the other interrupts asking, “who is that?” “That’s my brother.” “Why is he so still?” “He prefers to relax.” “I think I’ll join him.” “Cool, I’m sure he’d like that.” And so, the girl who caught his fancy approaches him. They sit in silence for awhile, and then he not knowing what was discussed, asks, “Why did you come over?”

“To give them space, and because I wanted company. My friend wanted to frolick, but I don’t like getting sweaty. The two of them can play together, he seems to have tickled her fancy.” While others would interpret that as snobish, he’s impressed by this, because despite her preference she still accompanied her friend. He smiles, and she asks why. “Because I like your style.” Then she says, “you don’t talk much.” “I can, depending on the topic at hand, but mostly think not much needs to be said.” She says, “that’s good to know” … and they sit, watching the sun set in the distance.

The one who’s walking now has the little girl on both shoulders. She’s radiant and illuminates the dark path. They approach the fork in the river. She says she wants to go to the right, and he says, “I’m going to the left. The path is shorter, and I said I’d take it.” She says, “but there’s no light.” “I’m okay with walking the dark path, blindly.” “But isn’t that one more dangerous?” “It is.” “Aren’t you scared?” “Not really, and even though I am slightly it won’t stop me.” “…” “I’m kinda glad that you desire to stay on the right path. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt traversing mine.” “What if you don’t survive?” “Then tell the boy who plays by the riverside, I tried.” — She says, “I’ll miss you.” He kisses her on the cheek, and says, “you won’t … after awhile, but I’ll remember you for the rest of my time.” “Look for me.” “Okay.” He then pushes her tube in the right direction, as he stands there watching her light fade … she looks over her left shoulder, til she can no longer see him.

The one who relaxes says, “we’re going to get some rest.” The one who plays, “but he said he’ll be back.” “He will, but he’s not that fast. He’ll be here tomorrow.” And so, he goes to the tent with the one who’s company he enjoyed. The other girl asks, “who are you speaking of?” “My brother.” “Where is he?” “He’s walking in the river.” “Which path did he take?” “The shortest one.” “Isn’t that dangerous?” “Yes, but he’ll survive. Anyway, let’s not worry about that.” They continue to play until they too decide to sleep.

–

The next morning, the boy who plays exits their tents first. He’s ravenous, and sees a bear in the distance … fishing. He decides he doesn’t want to spend time trying to catch such slippery fish, and wrestles the bear for it’s winnings. — Wet, with a fish in his mouth, and two in his hands … he approaches the bank, while the others wait, and the one who relaxes laughs at the sight of him. He says, “which one’s ours?” “Your shit is still swimming.” He laughs and says, “Okay.” He then dashes, grabs some fish, and is already next to him by time the one who plays … sits. His companion asks, “why didn’t you just give them one?” “Because he’s fast enough to get some for them without having to wrestle a bear.” She says, “I see.”

They prepare and eat their breakfast together, and as they allow it to digest another group approaches them. One of them says, “we saw what you guys did, and thought that was amazing.” The one who plays, thinks, “you would.” The other, laying on the table … turns over and ignores them, because he’s content with his companion, and embraces her. The fan continues, “how did you do that?” “You saw with your own eyes. I wrestled, he ran.” “But how did you get so strong, and him so fast?” “We were born that way.” “Can I be as strong as you, and as fast as him?” “Perhaps.” “How can I?” The boy who plays, turns away and looks at his companion saying, “this is getting tedious.”

Then he hears the fan yell, and his voice becomes distant. The one who relaxes, doesn’t turn in the direction of the voice just raises his arm into the air and says, “told you he’d be back.” The one who plays, says, “took you long enough.” “My bad, I broke my ankle on the rapids.” He pauses and continues, “why do you have all of these people around?” “I don’t, they came on their own accord. What did you do with the other guy?” “I pushed him somewhere over there”, he nonchalantly points into the distance. He turns to the others, and they jump in fear as he says, “don’t harass them. I’ll answer your questions after I get some rest.”

He says hi to the girls, and then retires to the tent. A few hours later he emerges, and says to the crowd, “you can ask your questions now.” Eagerly they all try to speak at once, and he says, “three people at a time.” He answers all of their questions in depth, until they have nothing left, and they leave. “Did you see a little girl that glows?” “No.” “Oh, I guess she’s still on her journey.” “What happened?” He tells the story, painting the picture of the scene, taking the boy who plays on a mental journey. Then the one who plays in exchange, tells him his story then asks, “what are you going to do now?” “I’m going back.” “Why?” “Because I missed things along the way, as I became preoccupied with others.” “You’re gonna just be distracted again, you should stay.” “Yes, but it won’t be at the same points during the journey. Well, hopefully it’s not.” “And if it is?” “Then I’ll walk it again. Each time, becoming stronger, faster, and more efficient.” “Then after that?” “I’ll walk the right paths, being able to complete them just as quickly because of my increased speed.”

The one who relaxes asks, “why do you walk it?” “Because I want to.” “Why did you help the girl?” “Because I can. Just the same as you decided to keep the girl who didn’t appreciate, company … because you could.” “Okay.” — The five of them sit for a bit, until the girl who was light approaches. She sees the boy who plays with his new companion. She is saddened by this, and so the boy who walks interrupts her state. He asks, “did you have fun?” She says, “yes, I saw so many things, and looked ‘forward’ to seeing more.” “I’m glad.” “Thank you.” The six of them sit, talk, and laugh together. Until, the one who was light says that she has to go home now. They all say bye, and the one who walks sees her off. Before parting ways with her he says, “there will be many moments of pain, but it is important to not allow them to erase the moments of joy. Appreciate both, and everything will be okay. Enjoy the moment, and if you can’t … look forward.” He sees the blood on her dress, and he rips that portion off. She kisses him on the cheek before departing silently.

He approaches the others, and quietly slides the torn portion of dress into the boy who play’s back-right pocket. However, the boy who plays says, “I don’t want this, burn it.” So the boy who walks, takes it, folds it, places it into his own pocket, and says, “I’m off, again.” The girls who were there, want to go also. They became excited about the things they’d see, after hearing the story. So they all walk to the bank, the other two boys … reluctantly. Then as the three of them enter the river, the boy who plays says, “you know you’ll get hurt again.” “Yeah, probably will.” He walks off.

–

A few miles later, one of the girls looks back and asks, “Why aren’t you walking with us?” “Because I did not know if you wanted me to. The two of you set off the bank before me. We’ve been keeping the same pace, and so I have not caught up nor passed.” “Come closer.” “Okay”, and so he does. Then he continues, “I will stay with you until the fork in the river.” “Okay. Can you tell me about the things that I’m seeing?” “Yes, but know that some of it will be scary.” “That’s fine”, and inconsiderately of the other girl he begins to openly speak of the things they see. The one who’s listening attentively, eventually interrupts and asks, “why did try to give him the portion of girl’s dress?” “Because he might have wanted it.”

Back at the bank.

“I hate the way he handles things.” “Understandable.” “Why would he think I’d want the dress of a girl who left me?” “I don’t know.”

“What if he didn’t want it?” “Then he would’ve expressed that.” “But if he wanted it wouldn’t he have expressed that also?” “Possibly not, considering you were with him, and then also because of pride.”

“He wanted me to have it, and so he forced his desires upon me.” “Yes, he did.”

“So then you did it because it would make him happy?” “No, I understood that it might make him sad. I understood that if it remained on her dress then it in a way may have been a brand, one which he might take pride in. However, the tear would still remind her of the point which came before that. I did it simply because it was the only thing that something couldn’t have been done about.” “What do you mean?”

“He swears he knows everything …”

“If he wanted it, but for whatever reason stopped himself … and she left, then nothing could’ve been done about his desire not being met. If he didn’t want it, and I got it, then he would’ve rejected it as he did. Him not wanting it would’ve still been appeased.” “Oh, okay. Then why did you keep it yourself?” “To serve as a reminder of her, What was shared, and my mistake. I understand the mistakes I make, but I do not know where I will err before I do, and so it reminder.” “Why not just forget?” “Do you want to be forgotten? If so, then I shall forget you. However, it is my desire to remember everyone and thing that means something to me.”

“… and he’s so egotistical …”

“Does it hurt to make mistakes?” “At times it can, and if we punish ourselves for it, it can hurt even more.” “Do you punish yourself?” “In ways, yes.” “What do you mean?” “I choose to walk the dark path, knowing well that it may hurt. That can be seen as punishing myself. However, I do not do it because I specifically want the pain. I’m just willing to accept the consequences of my actions. As such, even when I make mistakes, I accept what happened, and do not punish myself for it. I remind myself merely because I do not want to hurt those I perceive to be undeserving.” “Who is deserving?” “Those who cause pain.”

“… and judgmental.”

“Don’t you cause pain?” “Yes, and I experience pain.” “Did the girl who accompanied you deserve the pain you caused her by leaving her?” “…” “Did your brother deserve the pain that you caused him by leaving him?” “Yes.” “Then who doesn’t deserve pain?” “… … … I don’t know. I’d guess anyone who doesn’t experience it.” “So then why don’t you want to cause it? Wouldn’t causing it mean that the person receiving it is deserving of it?” “Yes, and I guess I don’t want to accept the responsibility of hurting those I perceive to not deserve it.” “So you don’t allow yourself to live, you hold back because you’re afraid?” “Yes. Self-induced restraint is usually fear-based.” “Okay”, and as she says that they approach the fork in the river. The little boy for the first time doesn’t know which direction to go.

The little girl says, “Well, while you decide, we’re going this way. Maybe we’ll see each other another time.” “Maybe.” “Thank you for your stories, they were much appreciated.” “And thank you for your perspective, I learned much” … and they fade off onto the horizon as the boy stands there, undecided. A few minutes pass by, when he decides to run back to the bank. Along the way, he sees a group of people on the rapids, struggling to clear them. He remembers the resentment of the girl he helped, and instead asks them if they would like help. They say yes, and so he does … but still they do not appreciate. He continues running, experiencing a few more things along the way … and by time he gets back to the bank he’s out of breath.

The boy who plays says, “damn that was fast.” “I ran.” “Didn’t you miss things?” “No, I didn’t miss anything this time. Everything I missed, was during and before the first time. This time I saw what I was meant to.” “What happened to your teeth?” “Some kid knocked them out.” “Wtf, you lost a fight?” “No, I didn’t fight back.” “So you just let him hit you?” “The same as I just hit others before.” “For no reason?” “No, I hurt him before.” “You know, girls aren’t going to like you with missing teeth.” “Probably not, but that’s okay.” They can hear the splashing sound of footsteps behind them. They turn around, as the girl who glows rushes the boy who walks. “I missed you.” “And I, you. I’m sorry for leaving you.” “It’s okay. You’ve been through much, your smile’s not the same.” “Yeah, do you still want to be with me?” “Of course, silly … I meant that in a good way.” “Oh”, and she kisses him deeply, missing teeth and all.

Then the boy who plays asks, “Are you going to walk the other path now?” “No.” “Then what are you going to do?”

“Play.”

“Okay.”

- Prasand J.

(this entry is the product of an ongoing conversation with the lovely Christine).

A lighter ignites the sound of an inhale which gives fire the desire to change frames of mind from life to ashes. He asks as he pulls away, and an overhanging bulb sways shining brightly a spot of rays down upon my frame, “Where were you the night of the twenty-third?” Smoke escapes my parted lips, as I’m leaned back in a chair elbow propping and holding my body from sliding upon the right armrest suggesting a relaxed position … I exhale, “Before or after midnight?” “After.” “With my lover.” “Where were you before?” I exhale, “With my lover.” “Then why did you ask for clarity?” “Either I’m speaking of two different people, or am amusing myself with you. Take your pick.” “We are not here to play games with you Mr. –.”

My identity is striken from his lips, and words fall short as if he has no clue who the fuck he’s dealing with. Clearly, he doesn’t. “Surely you don’t expect me to tolerate this or you without some form of entertainment”, I chuckle softly. “You can laugh all the way to a cell if that’s how you want to play it.” “On the grounds that I found you to be a clown? You must be mad.” Fearlessly, I called his bluff. “I know your type. The kind that masks his insecurities with humor.” “Subject a lesser man to your premature psycho-analysis. There are significantly more possibilities than your egotistical mind is allowing you to perceive at this time.”

His partner approaches him and whispers into his ear.

“Where were the two of you?” “In bed.” “All night?” “Probably, we tend to fuck a lot and between her wearing me out and rendering me unconscious I do not recall.” I pause and then continue, “Oh yes we were at a formal social and gallery viewing before. We managed to escape all of the elbow-rubbing long enough to have a quick fuck in the women’s washroom.” “Were there many in attendance?” “In the washroom? Only a few. I think they were enjoying it as they listened in. How about you?” “I meant at the event.” “I know, get a clue. Though to tell you the truth I was oblivious most of the time, as her accessory I didn’t pay her peers much mind. Though I imagine, yes.” “Do you suggest that such an alibi would hold up?” “Then that suggests you don’t know who she is.”

His partner whispers again.

“Tell me, how are things at home?” “My personal affairs are none of your concern.” “Does your wife know about your mistress, and vice-versa?” He gets my complete attention, not to mention I’m highly irked. He can see my discomfort and asks, “Did I hit a nerve?” “Men must learn now with pity to dispense, for policy sits above conscience.” He looks at his partner and says, “Can you believe this guy? Getting all Shakespearean.” His partner says, “I think that’s Timon of Athens[R].” I nod politely, sincerely. The interrogating officer says, “Was that supposed to be a threat?” “No, a warning and promise. Though I’ll elaborate more clearly. Not even Shakespeare himself could weave a story so tragic as the fate which would befall upon you if you continue to test my patience.”

His partner steps back.

“Oh I get it, you’re the provoking detective and he’s the lie detector. So while you get me to talk, he’s watching my reactions and telling you the next action, since you’re too close to notice. I like this dance. Let’s do it. Continue, please.” “You find this funny?” “Very. Can you not see the smile on my face? Should I show some teeth?” “You are wasting our time.” “You have that confused. See because I came here of my own accord, and can easily walk out that door. You would not be able to stop me. So get it straight, you are on my time … not the other way around, and I will do whatever I desire with my time. Maybe in the process you’ll get what you seek. Do you get me?”

Steaming he gets up, and his partner takes the forefront. “Prasand, you don’t mind if I call you Prasand do you?” “Not at all, I appreciate your presence.” “Thank you Prasand. While we are greatful for you coming in, we’re trying to solve a case … can you please be more cooperative?” “For you, yes. What would you like to know?” “Then let’s go back. Did your mistress know about your wife?” “I’ll let that slide only once, please do not use that word again … my bias finds it to be demeaning.” “Is she not your woman on the side?” “She’s primary, always.” “So you’d say things at home weren’t that great?” “Yes, but things at home are fine.” “What do you mean?” “Are you married?”

“Yes.”

“Actually, you wouldn’t be a good example. From your stature I can tell things at home are pleasant. So instead let’s take your partner for example. He goes home to his wife. Does she greet him like she used to? Does she kiss or touch him the same?” “No.” “Due to the state of relationships, the reality is women seek and enjoy titles. They find a false sense of security in those words. There was a time when it truly meant something. However, our society has devalued it. Like money which is nothing more than a piece of paper without any actual backing. Then with the advent of social independence, when a woman is secure she no longer finds the need to try as much. It’s the same with men, which leads to the death of passion. Then when the passion dies, and she’s no longer blind … she starts to see problems that she might not have noticed before. They become issues, but are only so in her mind.”

I exhale, “It’s reality, and I’m fine with that.”

“So you and your wife fought?” “Yes, but fighting isn’t necessarily bad. It can help relationships in many ways, but only if the two can get past it. Her extreme ego prevented that, due to her personal insecurities … her world which I was not privy. She coveted her identity and hid herself even from me, and stopped being a lover after we were married.” “Then why did you marry her?” “Because I was madly in love, and while I wasn’t blind to the reality I accepted her unlike her rejection of me. However, time makes the mind weary.” “Was she violent?” I laugh, “Imagine that. Even with her ego she’s not brave enough to truly fight me. Instead she shuts down, and bottles up.”

I pause … then continue, “I’m a very communicative and open man. Especially when I’m in a relationship. However, the truth can be harsh when one wants to believe in a dream. I can’t force her to let me in. Trust me, I’ve tried. I can only reassure her, support her, be loving and maybe she will deem me worthy enough … but she coveted her pain too much. She wasn’t understanding enough. She kept us separate even when we were together. Then, I met my lover.” “So you told your wife about her?” “Of course.” “How did she take that?” “Not very well to say the least. However, I will not hide myself from nor lie to the woman I gave myself to completely. Her doing so does not justify me doing the same. She always had a problem with the truth. Then again, most people do.”

“So tell me about your lover. Did she know of your wife?” “Of course.” “How did she take it?” “Like a lover would.” “Please elaborate.” “Social misconceptions, impulsive voraciousness, and individuality (ego) lead to the dilution of values. People have their own perception of words, and as such they lose their meaning. Before you know it, getting married will be the new fad because being a ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ won’t be potent enough to control or satiate the increasing insecurities. While that might be the case, there are a few things which may never change. Words like ‘lover’. Many associate lover with sex. However, that’s a misconception.”

He lights another cigarette for me.

I exhale, “In most other countries besides the United States. Lover is a term which does not denote copulation, but is indicative of the relationship. In Japan for example, your girlfriend is your lover. They don’t use ‘girlfriend’ or ‘boyfriend’ they say lover. However, it’s not a casual relationship like in the United States. The culture promotes true intimacy. Since they are socially reserved, they understand that one must express or share those things with someone. So they don’t have it confused, sharing excessively with friends … who replace the roles of lovers or are lovers without that identity. In Japan, young lovers may exchange a diary. Writing their feelings and thoughts inside, then the next day they give it to the other person … so that they can do the same. It’s in those moments where they are able to convey the things they may not be able say to verbally.”

I exhale, “It’s a great relationship and communication builder. However, it’s only something done with a person who you deem to be a lover. Two virgins can be lovers if the emotion is there. Even in the United States that is the case. There is a reason why men do not casually use the term lover. Some would say it’s unmanly, but the reality is that it’s uncomfortable to say it casually for a reason. While the listeners may just assume ’sex’, the speaker tends to truly feel that term. Think about it. You hear lover, you think ’sex’ … but say lover, do you feel ’sex’? Say, ’she is my lover.’ How does that feel?” “Sincere.” “Women are more prone to use it, but even they don’t since it’s not matched by the other. Lovers are those that share, understand, and are supportive of one another. In order to be those things one must be able to look beyond themselves. People do not know how to be lovers because they are too busy thinking of themselves. They justify excuses, games, and the like to deny the person they love … while claiming to love them.”

“So what you’re saying is, she’s not the type to get jealous because she’s understanding.” “Yes, but not exactly. Insecurity is part of life. Even the most secure person has doubts from time to time. The only thing that’s required of a lover is that they at least try to be understanding. However, she secure and never gets jealous when it comes to me. She’s territorial though. Only because that’s natural. So she in a sense, marks me with her scent. She’s very sexual by nature, a borderline nympho … and because of that, I’m understanding that due to our lives at times she has desires that I cannot always appease. So she sleeps with others, and that’s fine … because she never truly gives herself to another. I’m the only man she’ll allow bare inside of her, or will let cum inside of her. I’m the only man she deems ‘worthy’ enough to breed with.”

“But the two of you have no children?” “We do not.” “Don’t you fuck like rabbits?” *laughs*, “Yes. That may even be an understatement. She tends to get extremely horny when she’s ovulating, where only I can satiate her desires. We probably should have little village by by now.” I laugh, he laughs. I continue, “She happens to be on the pill, because it regulates her period. As such, it’s convenient especially since she doesn’t really want children. However, she will not deny me.” “Do the two of you ever fight?” “Sometimes.” “Does she get violent?” “Sometimes, but we quickly get over it.” “Does she ever get violent enough that she’d do something to your wife in retaliation?” “Ehhhhhh. Yeah, she’d stab a nun … but she’d tell me and we’d laugh about it together afterward.” “Has she ever told you of any interaction with your wife?” “No. She finds my wife to be too insignificant to truly acknowledge.”

“Do you think she ever has, even though she hasn’t said anything?” “No, I don’t doubt her even slightly.” “Would you ever ask her?” “No, not even if you asked me to. I will not doubt her even slightly … ever.” “But it wouldn’t be doubt, you’d just be fulfilling a request.” “I’m not a man that can really be convinced nor talked into action. If you really want to know, ask my wife.” “She’s dead.” “Oh, my bad. So that’s why I was asked to come in?” I laugh. “Didn’t they tell you?” “I think they might’ve but I didn’t really pay attention. I knew it was for something to do with a murder, but figured it had nothing really to do with me or I would’ve been taken in handcuffs.” “You’re seemingly indifferent to be just finding out your wife died.” “Oh, I’ve already come to terms with her death awhile ago. The more one alienates their lover, the more their status as lovers is erased or dies. It was heart-wrenching, torturous even … felt like I was dying. However, I realized it never really existed to begin with. I mean, the emotion was there … definitely. The passion and desire also … intensely. However, it was like being married to a stranger. I don’t think a wife is any less important. If anything she is more. However, a wife who’s not a lover is like a girlfriend without a relationship.”

“Damn, you’re cold.”

“Really? Blar. People want roles, positions but they do not accept the responsibility that comes with them. Every role comes with one. You as a husband have a job, and that’s to be a husband and everything it entails. If you aren’t doing your job, you probably will be replaced. You can argue states of infidelity, saying it’s her fault blaming others but the reality is … if you did not leave room for another man to maneuver you probably wouldn’t have been cheated on. So do your job, or get fired. It’s simple. Those who try to be independent die alone. It’s the reality she wanted and created. At times I wish it wasn’t that way, but it actually is. It was her fate sooner or later if she didn’t change. She wanted to be alone, even in our home. I wasn’t initially accepting of that. Then I realized her desires, and gave her what she wanted irrespective of my desires. An act of love, to overcome oneself for love. What I wanted didn’t matter. I gave her everything I was with little hesitation, and no regrets. Even if it only makes sense to me, a lover to the end.”

- Prasand J.

Do you accept your responsibility as a lover, to please those you love?
Or do you please yourself, only loving them when it’s convenient?
Can you give yourself and love … truly?