Secret Love Song

Secret Love Song

The sun had set, melted into hues of pink and orange, mixing to create a painting in the sky. Feet deep in the grainy sand, I look ahead at the vastness of the ocean. 

Taking a break from the monotony of my bland day, I’ve come to bathe in the dimming sunlight. After this I have to adorn myself in an expensive tuxedo, tie and all, slick my hair back with gel and pick up a rose for the missus. 

Wednesday night was our customary date night; fancy restaurants, cheesy hand-holding and late night wine. Except somehow, today felt a little different. 

It could be for a number of reasons. Maybe because we chose an eatery far away from the beachside for the first time, it could also be the fact that the humidity in the air had replaced the habitual chilly winds. Or it could be so because I was going to tell her that I was in love with someone else. Someone who wasn’t in the slightest bit like her. I was in love with another man. 

A niggling thought constantly in the back of my mind, I tried everything in my will power to kill it. I closed my eyes tight, hit my head against a wall, and even shaved my head. Nothing changed, the tiny, blood-curling thought still stabbed at my skull, making me question everything I’d ever known. 

As a little boy I learnt that pink is not just for girls, and that made me happy. I cried when I was sad, and when I was happy. I never felt it odd, cooking and baking, and never once questioned my inclination towards gleaming, glittery jewels rather than heavy, metallic trucks. 

But I believe that life has a way of finding itself, and a new path unfolds at every nook. To feel so suffocated in my own skin, to be able to sing and dance in this big, free world, and yet feel caged and trapped inside of my own head. The thought makes my head ache and skin crawl. 

The sky sitting above the sea this evening is calm and normal. Normal is good. But abnormal isn’t bad. Today it is pink and tomorrow orange. No sky is the same, it’s different in its own way, in the same colours, in the same spirit. That really puts things into perspective. 

So I’ve come to accept the fact, and acknowledge that everything happens for a reason, and for now, love is a reason enough. I love another man, and I think I’m okay with that. 

I gather my thoughts, and compose myself. As usual, I put on one of my finest suits and fragrance the room with the scent of my expensive cologne. I pick out a blood red rose, wink at the florist, then head over to a bakery to purchase the best cupcakes for my best friend. 

Never have I been so nervous for a date; the little hum of the piano in the background seems like war music tonight, and the scatter of couples dining there today seem like the villains from an enemy land. 

Suddenly I was overcome with a sense of nostalgia, I craved the comforting consolation of the sun, and the loud words of the sea. Sitting here, on a stiff chair, balancing my elbows on a rocky table, I felt as if I were committing a crime. 

But as she entered, hesitantly seating herself on the chair opposite mine, the usual twinkle in her eye had been replaced with a dull caution. Her face was set into a frown and her brows knit into a shape of worry. 

Despite her discomfort, she looked as beautiful as ever in her emerald green dress. It’s the one we bought together last year, and I shook my head to rid the memory. 

“I need to talk to you about something, it’s important”, I spoke.

She nodded, then proceeded to order an iced tea instead of wine for herself. The tension in the air heightened and then I knew something was seriously wrong. 

“Is something the matter?” I asked.

“Before you say anything, I have to tell you something too”, she bit her lip, and blinked several times. A trait we both picked up when anxious. 

I nodded for her to continue, but there was a heavy silence that followed the next few seconds. 

“If you’re uncomfortable, let me begin-”

But I was cut off mid-sentence. The ringing in my ears that followed, spoke over and over of the next thing she said. She straightened her arched back and looked everywhere but at me. 

“I love you”.

I blinked. Coughed Nervously.

“But I am in love with another woman”. 


Nandini Sethi
Nandini Sethi

Sometimes dolefully insightful, sometimes plain distressed state of mind, but always love. I think there’s a bit of love in everything we write. 

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