"Are you serious?"

"Are you serious?", she asked me.
Am I serious?
I've been waiting for so long to make you feel just that, I'm serious.
Why so serious?
Because I love you.
One lazy afternoon that rolls into a cozy evening is just the setting for a matured kind of love. Call me mushy, call me romantic, the old-fashioned kind. How does it really matter?
Just the day before, she gave me the first gift. It's nice. The way she gave it to me, was even better. It meant to me the care, she almost never showed for me. She's changing. She says, I'm changing too. There are certain things I hate about growing up, growing old. But there are certain others, I love. This is one of those. To be able to shake of your baggage of whatever you had gathered so far. There are moments in life, when you understand, you wont live much longer, not at least in the way you want to. Like an actor gives his best performance after the curtain rises for the last time, like a sportsman puts up his best after the penultimate whistle has blown, you live it up. You know the end is evident, you know you are too helpless to stop it, you're too skeptical to believe that it wont come. You live it up.
This is too good to be true.
You walk the scorching stretches of heat after doing the necessary weird stuff in life, and the last person you expect to meet is her. So, you hardly notice her. She calls you, then tells you, she'll call you up when she's free. You, being the skeptical pessimist you are, keep working your course. You almost forget about her. Somewhere deep down, you believe the call will never come. At the most she'll send a sms, which will say, "some other day probably..." or something like that.
Then you come out of your self constructed closet, where you try to look busy, wearing your self-made cloak of importance! And like silently the angel of life knocks at your doorstep, you see her, waiting. Not really for you, but at the place you least expected.
And you decide, this life is worth giving a try, once more.
So, you drop the duties and be there. Not because you can let go, but because you feel like! and then finally, you gather the courage to ask her out, in full presence of her friends. Not that they'll mind, but somehow, it used to look odd. Then you land up in a place where you can actually be cozy with her. Cozy enough to be able to talk to her, watch her cruising through the books, steal glances of her, be close enough to breath on her neck. You just want to kiss her there, but you know that'll be too much. And you enjoy the sweet pain of helplessness and and she enjoys her toothache because you are happy to be with her.
At some point, she actually wants to know about your feelings about her. You pore it out. You know it can be dangerous according to the principles you like to hold on to, but you don't care about them that much these days. She is too precious to let go, but she is too comfortable this afternoon. She's too good to be yours, but she says she's already yours, and she feels bad that you are troubled with this relationship.
Then, like luck would have planned everything perfect for the evening, you decide to go for a movie. Honestly, it's trash. But that's just the best to suit the bill. Any place cozier than a film hall if you want "not to be looked at", even by her? You just feel her presence beside you. That's all you wanted, ever. The warmth of being together. Not much I suppose?
It's too late and you've already promised her that you'll drop her home. You take a cab and the driver's drunk. So drunk that he escapes an accident just by a whisker all through the way. You feel worried about her, but then as you're pretensions give way to your love, because now it's too strong to be controlled, you feel like dying. You know the kind of life you want with her is not a possibility right now, so you secretly desire for a fatal accident. Impossible? So is this relationship.
You truely give in to the death drive!
No, it doesn't happen that way, but it would've been so good if it did.
She cares....
That's good enough for now...
Am I serious?
Like the desert is about the rain, I am.