“Who is the winter?” I had responded, almost automatically. It had torn her apart, making her shy away and cocoon into herself for days after that.
I knew from experience that she was sensitive. More importantly, how was she living without me? The worry was nagging me, clutching at my throat.
She was a weird combination of many personality traits – obviously not fitting into any of the zodiac stereotypes. She had been a soul filled enigma, irrevocably colouring a few chapters in the otherwise monochrome book of my life in vibrant shades.
I had known she was keeping things from me since day 1. But I had been too comfortable in my own blindness to think hard about it. I knew I was not getting the complete truth but I couldn’t leave her for that.
She was the risk I adored, a failure I’d cherish and a bitch I’d worship.
Every time I touched my Royal Enfield, wanting to escape the shit that was my life with a long morning drive coasting along the ECR, I would remember him. My Raghu – someone I’ll never forget in my lifetime. He was my serendipity. He was the one I had wanted to meet, fall in love with and live happily ever after together. His innocence and care had been unadulterated and unfiltered and even his kisses would seem gentle, giving and wanting simultaneously, and adding a piquancy to the forbidden platter we were relishing.
Staying miles apart, yet sensing his presence almost close to me – it was magical and unique. In a matter of months, our lives had tangibly tangled, messily interlaced. Letting him go was the hardest thing I had done. Of all the things I hate about my life, this goodbye stands at the top of the list.
Our life together was knit by moments rather than the ‘forever and after’ promise.
The usual spot where he dropped me and waited until I had safely entered my house
His cold stares at the creepy perverts who objectified me sexually.
The way he pulled me closer to avoid the oncoming traffic.
I had fallen in love with him a little more every time he had done something like that. I was practically in another world while I was with him.
His entry in my life changed two things – I no longer felt sick and lonely. I finally knew what it meant to be with a constant companion, for he had always been there either physically or emotionally, running in my mind on a loop like a one song playlist. Secondly, he had brought back my feeling of trust in men. The transition from ‘How will I trust anyone ever again’ to ‘Why would I even think of trusting anyone else?’ had been easy for me with him beside me.
It had been a given that I would never love anyone again but he had picked me up from the hard ground where I had fallen and shattered into pieces – nursing me back to health, carrying me around like the most fragile, gentle thing ever.
P.S – The above is an excerpt from my new release – Dirty Martini. Grab your copy from Amazon If you’ve missed reading the Prologue, please do read now 🙂
It was 1:00 AM and a WhatsApp message chimed.
That usual tinge of delight crept it. Maybe, He is up for some sexting? Oh! No, “We’ve to talk!” read the text. “Yeah! Tell me.”
It goes up to 3:45 AM and your eyes are burning. Yes, I know, not just your eyes, your soul-heart-mind and what not?
It’s over. All done. The last ‘Goodbye,’ reached your screen. Your final egoistic “Thank you!” was sent, and you saw the blue tick. His last seen is 3:46 AM and you turn away leaving the mobile aside.
You get up in the morning. You’ve had nightmares. You check your mobile just to know that it is not what it is, but, IT STILL IS.
You text your friends. Screenshots are sent. She asks if she should come over, The other asks you if you’re okay? And you are glad that you have a few who cares.
You lie down again. You can hear your heartbeat; there’s a lump in your throat and chest. It hurts. Your mind ensures that you think of the first meet, the first date, the first kiss, the first and the middle and the last and every single thing that brought you two closer.
You want to vent. Your hands tremble when you’re trying to check his WhatsApp status or Facebook profile – you’re afraid if he’d blocked you by now. His status and the image is the same – your heart just sinks. You re-read the WhatsApp texts again for the umpteenth time and try to read between the lines. You screenshot the page where he hurt you the most. You want that reminder to stop you from getting back to him.
Facebook, Whatsapp, Twitter and Instagram – you scroll and throw the mobile away. You have a long face, but, you act that you’re fine. But, that cold stare from your mom that says “I know something is wrong with you,” hurts.
You switch on the TV and cry along. You see Ross-Rachel breaking up, yet, it reminds you that Rachel missed the flight for him. It fucking tears your soul apart. It does, yeah!
“All is well, It’s okay!” you convince yourself.
“The sooner, the better, at least this is earlier than we thought,” you say to yourself.
“Maybe! It is not meant to be,” assurance.
What if I send a “Hi” – will he reply? Will he block me? Will he ignore? – The what ifs crowd your mind. You stop yourself.
What if I call him? – Not a good idea! Never.
The battle within. You sleep more than usual. You lost interest to do anything today. You don’t know what’s about to happen. You feel empty. You feel weak. You sense void! It is. It is.
This is not your first break-up, not his either. You’re not even reminded of your ex anyway, because, you’ve moved on. You’re convincing yourself that you’re better off and you survived the worst before. Still, this pains. It kills you on the inside. There’s a heavy baggage loaded on your chest and tears just slip from your eyes.
The good memories haunt you. You don’t want that reminder. You don’t know how to shut the reminiscences, and to instruct your mind to think of something else. You just can’t.
But, you’re still surviving it. You will definitely survive this. You drown today! The pain will drain tomorrow. May you have a better tomorrow! 🙂