Scared — Mused — Lost
Crocky, as I am to call him, he was all pokey, slithery, and a perfect mix of light green, dark green, and black dots and stripes. The quintessential bad-boy image to have. And as we know it, that’s the winner among girls. So he did woo me, too.
Our first tryst was in my lush green garden after the rains, and when our eyes locked, the first emotion that surfaced in me was fear. He was just giving me that rugged vibe, and I hoped he would also notice me. He did get a glimpse of me when I was startled at seeing him, for sure. He is TDH, or rather Pokey Dark Handsome, to be exact. But two of them are true, so he qualifies. After the first jolt, I also gave him a detailed look. He was fascinating, resting at the end of the pond, just not concerned about who was passing by and going. All cool boy vibes. His legs and half of his body were dipped in water, too. So, of course, he was cool. That lush green environment and his beautiful coat, which complemented it, can actually catalog him, but I, for one, was meant to muse about him, so I noticed him. That was our first tryst. I thought he might get bothered by my lingering, and he was lazing on the side of the pond to catch a bite, so I moved on. To be a little discrete. Although my heart said otherwise. I knew I would have my time with him.
Then, it became a habit to walk past that pond and just look around for him. Most of the time, without any care, he would laze in the pond with just some movement, which showed that he was breathing. A bubble here and there. Which was fascinating. How can someone be so fascinating just by bubbling around in a pond? That glimpse was enough for me to thrive, and I did not linger or bother. Discretion and restraint, as taught by my convent nuns! I wanted him to look at me; I knew he would once he knew I was his most authentic fan.
So those were our days… was it his… I rather not care. Those were our days of romance, or rather of snatched glimpses, some snaps of his different positions while floating. The peekaboo through the leaves in the pond was enticing. I enjoyed peeking at him, taking some snaps of him, and musing over our meeting when it happened. Would it be in this pond or somewhere else? I wondered.
Then, one day, I pass by the pond and don’t spot him. My heart sinks once. This occurred that evening, too, just when I went looking for him. I was bothered. Where would he have shifted to? Want that pond a good enough place for him, and why would he have to move on? Did he actually “ MOVE ON”… what could be that which I did that made him do that? Did he see that hottie in the next lane? Ofcourse, she is younger and has a bigger pond with lilies. That might have enticed him. She and her pond are a great combination. I need to get a bigger pond and lotuses. Maybe he will come back to mine then. What is it that I did that triggered him away? Would it be that peeking or capturing him? Did he actually read my mind? I took my best friend and walked past him so she could check him out. She saw him and gasped and ranted about my luck. Did he hear that? Was he disturbed by her shrieky voice? He thought he would be troubled by that. He loves me … he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not… So it’s a NOT … Why can’t this flower have more petals? My heart wreaked at this rejection.
That evening, when I was walking with my partner, I didn’t want to engage with him at all; I was yearning for Crocky. Would we ever meet again… was the question looming in my being.
Lo then, my partner pulled me to him and saved me from stepping on something splattered in the road. I could see Crocky run over and in pieces….
The police did release the accident scene pictures of him in the next daily. I didnt want to look at them nor post them here.
I like to beleive he would come back to my pond one day!
