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The Unheard Flutters III

My Dearest Atomic Panda, Hi. Hello. How you doin? Gosh, this is awkward Panda! No, not exchanging pleasantries;but writing letters to you like this...I mean seeing you everyday at our evening rambles, more than did it for me. The ephemerally ecstatic glances that we couldn't hide giving each other, were enough to relay the passion we felt, passing between these eyes, what our lips couldn't fathom disclosing. What's more funny obviously is that before I started writing them, I thought of these letters as pointless, for I won't give/read them to you. The Unheard Flutters I call them, this might being the third as far as my mind recalls. Yet, after each one that I wrote I promised myself I'd never scribble another. But here I am, ever reminiscent of you, sprawled alone, cornered by my books, left with your memories and white, blank pages in front of me. It's the evening of a dying April's week and apparently Nature seems to be truly enjoying its besieger, when I see daffodils lurching joyfully in the cool wind, planted in a cordon confronting my house whilst Man cowers in his prized walls, now truly aware of his misdeeds. Rage, when genuine and untamed I regard, serves justice indiscriminate. Be that as it may, the vacated skies unburdened by the filth of its admirers, having unveiled some of its most overwhelming beauty has invited all fauna aloft; almost trying to compete with your charisma. In turn, it has made me miss you more, time and again my love. Long since I discovered myself to be the uncrowned poet that I am meant to be, I long for my beloved muse ever more. And in this stranded hellhole where my verses are the only ones that keep me going, every one of them is tinted with the recollections of my days spent with you. It's very hard my love, to willingly let those handful of reveries be carried away by breezes which the ever changing weathers bring. Until moribund, I'd hold on to them ever so tightly and close to my burning chest; For they're the only ones that I deem worthy of accompanying me in the lengthy and perilous wait of your return. Treasured, cherished and perfect, it's unimaginable to keep their influence at bay. They mocked the inane attempts I used to make at forgetting you per your last wishes that were already painful to have borne witness to—leaving me crestfallen for the dead. It's been 5 months Harshita. Spearheading two elite exchange initiatives by our school, winning a societal essay competition, propelling the glory of my gilded badge as the Editor-in-chief of Effective English Communicative, one of fifteen handwritten poems selected for a real estate magazine feature, (7 of which yearn for your fingers) and vaguely successful efforts at stitching up a torn heart. Still, I have achieved none if I don't have your embrace to confide in every evening. And in these very months, on several seething nights, I have cried out from eidetic nightmares of your depart. Poisonous travesties of your face bulging into violent oneiric hues that rendered me sleepless and afraid to close my eyes again. Accolades, opportunities and hopes only eke out a megalomania while brazen breaths escape a blistered heart. Even the cold sweat traversing from my brows at midnight, helps in hiding the tears when my pillow's soaked. 4 years of mistreatment like I was unwanted, by the same people who the world proclaims is my family. Bounded, brainwashed, humiliated and robbed of the last dregs of my self-respect with absolutely nobody to talk to; bereft of love, care and resources that many consider granted, but most of all—dreams. Until you came along and made me believe that someone exists who doesn't laugh AT me, but rather cries FOR me. Tends to my wounds with no ulterior motives other than acceptance. Holds my hands and touches my soul. Someone who trusts in my potential, silently loving me for who I am INSIDE (and everything that I could become). Strong as a titan, vouching for my lows. Curling with me in chilly November nights, promising me eternal springs together. Wipes my tears with her hugs. And heals my melancholia with her smiles, filling my lungs with a holy elixir through her lips. And it all ended in the blink of an eye. Aryan Tarafdar says I should venture into this trench no further, for I am meant to fly after being caged by the benighted so long and that this decaying depth being standstill, would be the most inglorious end of me. He says I ought to delete your photos and burn these 'wretched' letters because they compel me to overthink stuff. But I think I would just stop trying to 'mourn' you now, simultaneously trying to make a living out of my newfound creed for once, in honour of the shoulder that my said big brother provided when he earth shook and I fell under your blows. And as always, when I come to the culmination of an Unheard Flutter, I'd only say: I can never stop loving you Harshita. I'll remember us and that's why I might just be waiting for you till the end of time because we are conspicuously made for each other. You're the best thing that will have ever happened to me honestly. I am humbled to have been loved by you and for that, I will be forever grateful to my stars. If there's ANY chance that you're reading this, I want you to know you WILL remain a part of every success of mine because of one single reason which l failed to emphasize enough: Of all the time I was alive, I genuinely knew what being happy meant, only when I was in your arms. May the Archangel of The Holy Heavenly Army keep you safe and in good health, with peace in your bosom and love in your heart. With Tears, Love and Memories,

Your Bambi

Written By Arthur Jayden Morningstar -> Best Submission- Flames- April 2020

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