The good notes - Prelude. Just 'cuz it stayed in my drafts, and I wouldn't delete it.

It was too late for the much needed tub of ice cream. So I did the next best thing. I sat down to watch The Holiday. For the umpteenth time!

Opening score. Winslet's monologue. The fairytale cottage. The melodrama. The wit. The mush.
It works. Every time.

"Don't blow away."
I repeated.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kiss you twice... and then linger a long time on the second kiss."
I blushed.

Definitely got me into true blue sweep-me-off-reality spirits!

Then came the scene at the video shop.
"Okay. Driving Miss Daisy. Hans. Very unexpected. Do you remember how great it was?"  [Jack Black does an impression of soundtrack]

And I thought, "Right away!"

It was love at first hear.
Sassy, sassy, sassy!

It wouldn't be quite untrue if I said I could watch the movie again, only for it's soundtrack. And, I've been hooked on for a while now.

The good notes. : http://ramansneha.blogspot.in/2013/03/the-good-notes.html

Folie à deux.

Too weird if I said it's a beautiful thought? Romantic, even?

Folie à deux.

My junkyard.

At age nine when kids my age chased dogs and caught dragon flies, I wandered the block collecting ‘stuff’ I called ‘creative junk’. They were safely deposited into a carton I nicknamed ‘My Junkyard’. Soon the junk grew to two, three, four.. ten.. cartons, and when I moved to my apartment two years back I finally created ‘my creative junkyard’ above the garage. My work is inspired by the random objects collected in different periods of life. Random thoughts. Random emotions. Random inspirations. My friends called it trash. They now call it art.

(A write-up for a concept board that I'd done couple of years back, and stumbled on accidentally today. The garage is still a distant dream. But, someday.)

Dear you.

Dear you,

Thank you for believing that you ought to make your rules, choose your experiences, define your comfort zones, and pick your indulgences wisely, including company. For cherishing the similarities in these choices in another's company and for helping yourself to new thoughts, attitudes, and creating new experiences together. Believing that in true companionship, you trust another, and your choice in another, to open yourself up to newness and to growth. Knowing that trust, newness and growth ought to be mutual. That there are things you do together - you share, you learn some and you unlearn some; and there are others you must do on your own - on your own terms. And, for not being afraid to make that choice. And, thank you, for this life of  no regrets that started on the right side of that choice!

Much love,
me.

Soundboard.

I haven't heard from you for a while now.

I grew anxious when I first noticed the change.
Was something wrong? With me? With you? Between us? I couldn't be sure. But, something must be wrong. We did not talk about such things. We did not talk about feelings. Well, at least not the ones that directly concerned either, or both, of us.

Anxiety turned to speculation.
Was something changing? With me? With you? Between us? I couldn't be sure. But, something must be changing. We did not talk about such things. We did not talk about changes. Well, at least not the ones that directly concerned either, or both, of us.

Speculation turned to acceptance.
Was this a new beginning? With me? With you? Between us? I couldn't be sure. But, this must be a new beginning. We did not talk about such things. We did not talk about beginnings. Well, at least not the ones that directly concerned either, or both, of us.

I haven't talked to you for a while now. Why haven't I? 

Closure.

'Is there closure?', he asked.
No. 
I wish I'd stopped there. The more I tried to think, or talk, the more inconclusive it all started to seem. That's why I knew it had to remain there. In the past. The questions. The what-ifs. The howevers. It had to stay there. At the line that I'd drawn when I decided to accept, and to stop thinking. The line that I'd drawn when I decided to stop caring.
I wavered at the question. I would be lying if I said otherwise. 
But then, may be it's true.
"There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story."
And, I believe, knowing when to stop and trusting that choice is your best shot at closure.