The Well of Hapiness

Incomplete. Without her.

There was an old well of happiness
I tied a bucket to a rope
And threw it in
I swung it again and again
For water to fill
And pulled
But something stopped it,
Like a branch
For there were many of them,
Wild branches, which grew all these years.
I pulled again,
I couldn't.
Holding the rope, I peeped down,
It's all dark.
For a last time, I pulled,
Harder.
I sighed.
I looked around for help.
And there she was
Sitting silently on a rock,
Lost in her own ocean of thoughts,
Gazing at eternity
For a moment I was imagining
Then, she was real
Should I ask her?
'No,' a part said.
I wanted not to disturb
She's so beautiful in her thoughts.
I turned back at the well.
Another half said:
'Ask her. She can help you.'
I exhaled
For a moment I was going to ask her
Then, I decided against it
Finally, I came to a better decision
I will wait for her,
To surface up the ocean
And look at me
And sail over her,
By my side, shoulders brushing
And help me,
We both would drink the water for sure.
After a while
She turned to me
And recognised
Her lips curling to a smile
My face muscles pulled the both ends of my mouth wide,
Happy, I was.
She was going to come
She turned away
Now, looking straight at eternity
She liked plunging deeper into her ocean
My face muscles relaxed
I tried pulling the bucket once again, grunting
No use, the branches were strong
'May be I will never be able to pull it out,' I thought.
I lost hope
I was going to remain thirsty
Yes, I said myself, that's the truth
My grip loosened on the rope
Suddenly a pair of hands, very soft, clutched mine
I turned
She stood next to me,
Shoulders brushing
My heart peaking up
'Pull,' she whispered
I stared at her big eyes
Gripping the rope harder
There was a magic in her voice,
Her presence
Which made me weaker,
And stronger at the same time
I exhaled trembling
Looking down and composed myself
I nodded, growing stronger and stronger
I turned at the rope and pulled
And heard the branches break