One more night

He lifted himself out of the bed and, with heavy feet, tried to walk out of the gloomy, dark room. 

"It was such fun," she exclaimed. As his heart drifted out of the room, his body turned around and withdrew with a half-hearted smiling 'yes.'
He walked away to save himself from her happy and smiling eyes. Only far enough to have her out of his eyes, not his mind. 

As he opened the window, the wind dashed on his face with a thousand questions. The silence seemed deafening as his mind screamed with rage and anger. And among these all, he stood betraying his own beating heart. 

The more he thought, the more he could not understand what he was missing. As the night stared back at him, he wondered if he was childishly yearning for an impossible feeling. The feeling of overwhelming passion which destroys the mortal disciplines of daily life. He wanted to burn in the fire of her desires. He wishes she would consume all of him when he expresses her love. He wanted the most carnal version of her and himself to fuse together. 

He wanted them to break free from the trap of methodical love. His definition of love could not be guided by rules. He needed to unleash the flow and drift along where his love would take him. Though she had a thousand reasons of doing things way she did, he did not want to understand any of those. He wanted more of her. He wanted to surrender to the ultimate passion. The passion that transcended beyond logic and reason. Passion that understood neither a bad time nor an inappropriate place. The magic of love was this passion, which would hold both of them together in messed up bodies sticking each other in most messed up ways. 

But, he knew. His wishes only belonged in the land of fantasy. This was not what his partner thought of love. For her, love was something to be managed. Her love was reasonable, her love was just. It was appropriate as per nature's cycle of birth, growth and death. It had rhythm, it had balance. Her passion was calibrated to nurture and not destroy. Her love was for life and not for the fire and poison. He had seen it and felt it. He understood it. 

As the night moved, he swallowed his desires and embraced the lingering guilt. Without him thinking, his hands moved to close the window shut. Darkness and silence flooded the void between them. In such darkness too, one could see his eyes lose any of the remaining excitement. 
He moved towards the bed, sliding himself inside the blanket as stealthily as he could. He looked at her happy face as he tried to rest. Harder than ever before, he tried to convince himself that, in this moment, he was happy and was always meant to be - happy!