The Past Slips From Our Memories

You know the hurt that bruises your mind when you wake up from a perfect dream with all the right pixels that just hit you so hard that you would like to call it home? I felt that right here, not once, not twice.

I've not always been the stellar image that people have thought I always was. I was a scared, ashamed and cowardly little girl in a Cinderella's body and what could I do? For many, that was a privilege that they'd have done anything for, but me, not so much.

All I'd ever wanted was to be seen for me, a girl in need of warmth and love, to be heard as a voice and not a popularity stunts woman, and to be loved, not for my eye brows of many colours or my isosceles curves. I lived a life in the spotlight and still wasn't seen for who I was.

Today made it 11 days since the world went blind and still no ghosts seem to come visiting. How much of a bad person am I for only missing Estella and not anyone else?

For once, I feel I have a chance to be 'normal'.

I thought to myself while I sat at a slightly freezing distance from the bonfire that had been set for nights in a row now.

You know what they never told us about the end of the world in SciFi movies? They didn't say it was Antarctica falling over the world. The cold has been like Winter in Russia for days in a row and it only worsens with every passing day.

The other day, a river, not too far from here was frozen as stiff ice that could be walked on, and don't get me started on the rhythmic earth tremors too. Whatever party hell is throwing underground is one hell of a hit for the beats to shake the earth.

"Mencia? Mencia?" Justin said in his beautiful voice that oozed a lot of care as he tried to find her in the fairly lighted environment.

Mencia couldn't decide what part of him was more awestriking, his voice or his graceful looks.

Hearing his voice, Mencia walked towards him and as she had done everyday, she hugged him tightly and kissed his lips like that might be the last one they'd be trading.

Was this what Carpe Diem was supposed to be about?

With her legs dancing in the air and her body in his arms as he lifted her above the ground, Justin whispered to her ears.

"I got you something." He got the reaction he'd envisioned- a mild smile and surprise. He dropped her slowly and dipped his hands into the back of this super baggy cargo pants that couldn't have belonged to anyone of his age. He brought it out slowly, relishing every moment of her little and lively smile.

It was a mirror. Yeah, a mirror.

"It felt unfair that I was the only one seeing this beauty, the last one of it on the breathing planet. I wanted you to see it, too" Justin said in a lowly voice that could make any girl break into tears.

Romance had just seen daylight in this dark postapocalyptic world and there wasn't just feelings flying around in the air, there was silence.

Mencia grew up reading poetry of Emeritus Posh and one part of his anthology that struck her was his "...love blushes words on her cheeks of sincerity". This made sense to her in this moment where words couldn't leave her lips.

Justin wasn't expecting words, he was not anticipating anything, but he smiled because she couldn't stop doing that.

He held her hand and they walked closer to the fire where about twenty something people were gathered. Without caring about the comments, the stares or their presence, he held the mirror right towards her face with an angle that was nothing less than perfect.

There was something in the mirror, there was someone in it, too. Beauty saw Beauty and blushed harder with mild chuckle that transformed into a sniffle and a few baby-tears from the edges of her eyes.

She needed an embrace and Justin knew that, so he dropped the mirror gently on the ground and gave her an even bigger hug that gifted therapy to both their souls.

"Thank you, Justin…. thank you" Mencia said to him with her teary voice.

Mencia withdrew first from this very long but lovely to the eyes hug and held him by his wrists in her small palms as she took him to her spot where she stayed.

Her spot wasn't a flashy, social media perfect place, but it was warm with the clothes she laid on the floor and by the side of the walls of what looked like a cave.

As they laid themselves on the ground, Justin focused his gaze on her, just as he'd always done and she did the same. This was the moment where a 1990's romantic orchestra would have picked up the baton.

Justin moved his hands to her hair and caressed it slowly right till her left face and behind her ears by the edges of her neck. His every touch felt like poetry that synced with Mencia's heartbeat and she didn't want him to stop.

With her slightly opened lips, she breathed passion on to his face that was near hers while she rubbed her fingers warmly around his arms that were over her.

In the midst of the slowly escalating passion between these two, Mencia felt a rush of nostalgia or something close to it. She remembered the last time she let him go, and now, she knew she couldn't let that happen ever again.

This was one of the moments that had mattered to her and she loved it just like this, unscripted, unrecorded, untimed and she let it all happen.