Why didn’t he come to her. Why didn’t he speak to her. Wasn’t he curious about her too. Tahira felt such a longing in her heart for him.
One day she decided to act. She gathered her courage, and wrote him a short story where she told him she longed to know him, would like to meet him. Her words were very poetic and they flowed easily, and it surprised her to be able to write Fao so familiarly. She left the missive on his desk, and the next day as she sat on her usual bench in the courtyard, she saw Fao passing by her. Her heart started beating very fast. He raised his eyes to look into hers, and she read trouble and distress there. And then he continued walking without saying a word.
Several days passed and several times Fao passed and looked at her, without saying anything, as if he were still hesitating about the answer to give her. It was a strange behaviour, but Tahira accepted strangeness as normality, as she lived in the reality of her dreams more than in the concrete reality where other people lived.
A week passed, and to her surprise one day, she found a missive on her desk. It was short, but poetic too, a few simple beautiful words, and Fao agreed to meet her after school.
They met on a fair afternoon of autumn and started walking in the streets. They didn’t say anything and didn’t look much into one another’s eyes. They passed many buildings until they arrived in a pine garden with fir trees and bougainvilleas filled with flowers. They sat on a bench there continuing not to look into one another’s eyes.
After a while Tahira dared to follow her impulse, and she took Fao’s hand. At first his hand was stiff, but as she gently caressed it, his hand suddenly opened to hers. Then with her other hand she brushed his cheek. He started to slowly turn his head. And their gazes met.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Tahira came closer and closer, until her lips brushed his. There was a total absence of shyness, a total absence of disgust. Fao had become as familiar as she was to herself. On his face, she saw her face. In his traits, the marvel and the dreaminess, she saw herself. She kissed him and after a moment he kissed her back. She felt his resistance melting away. Their tongues touched, met. They were transported to another place, another time, outside of the world, timeless, eternal. She felt light and fire and warmth and quietness in her, and she saw in his eyes, in his face an indescribable beauty. The more they kissed, the closer they became, the more beautiful he was. He could have been her child so much tenderness she felt for him. But he was even more than her child. He was her equal, her true counterpart, and in his eyes she saw as much tenderness, as much love, for her. All reluctance and reserve had abandoned him, as he showed her his true face, the true, naked colours of his heart. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need words to describe what they were feeling. They both knew, in their hearts, they were feeling exactly the same things, the same intensity, for they felt they shared one heart and one face, and they now were together and had retrieved wholeness. It was such a feeling of bliss, of joy. And Tahira remembered her dream. This was as strong and as deep and as complete a love she had felt there. And suddenly she remembered the face of the boy who had kissed her in the blog. Fao. Fao. It was Fao. With his true face of love. And like in her dream, he came closer to her and hugged her and embraced her and kissed her. Like in her dream he filled her entirely. “I was looking for you in everything, everywhere.” “And now, and now, I have found you at last.”