An open relationship

What was I to you
But a strange but friendly, smiling face
And what more were you to me
But someone to smile at?

Maybe each of us was a face the other was looking for
To superimpose on long-cherished, never-realized fantasies

Do phrases like “never forget” and “everlasting love” and “eternal friendship” mean anything?
Does it matter if I call you soulmate and you call me the answer to all your questions?
Or maybe we’ll be the fashionably perverted lovers and wage passionate war the way ordinary people make love.

We can play all the games that lovers and friends and enemies and acquaintances and couples play.
Or we could just be.
You and me.
You. Me.
Then one.
Then nothing.
And everything.
And two again.

If after all this, the question still is…..was it something special?

Well, if you need to ask…..if you prefer the poetry of words to the music of silences…well, was its special?
Maybe it wasn’t. And since I think so, probably so do you.


About IdeaSmith

IdeaSmith is the digital doppelganger of Ramya Pandyan (intrepid train-traveller and frequent spouter of post-midnight rhymes and rants). As IdeaSmith she battles obscurity and slays boredom with her stories about men, books, digitalia and Mumbai. She performs live and also blogs, tweets, Instagrams, Facebooks, +G’s, Youtubes and Goodreads all as IdeaSmith. Ramya is a blogger, digital storyteller and spoken word performer. She also runs a forum for aspiring writers called Alphabet Sambar. Tweet-bomb her at @ideasmithy.

Posted on May 8, 2006, in Hormone hangover, Relationships, Times, they are a-changing and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. Was it special? Or.. Is it special?
    And if it wasn’t/isn’t, then what you think would not imply what the other thinks.

  2. another one that purely reflects what i think and what i feel….

    r u my alter ego?

  3. Anonymity: Precisely.

    Sunshine: You aren’t the first one to pay me that supreme compliment. I guess I’m ‘just a statistic’….typical of lot of people everywhere.

  4. The perverted irony that lies in the answer to your last line: ‘I do’.

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