“I remember how it went.
I was angry. I was guilty. He was angry because I was angry. We were mad. At each other. About each other. We hated each other yet loved each other to a point where we could potentially rip each other apart, break each other down to the point of no return. But we loved each other.
You know when you go in for steam bath, you stand there until you can’t bear it anymore. Its like a pressure cooker. You hold the steam until you realize its self-immolation. Like holding on to a rope till your hands start bleeding.
The fights we had were like that. They were never ending. Stupid. Frivolous. Amplified. Torn to the last decree.
The in securities that we muffled inside ourselves for so long came up. We hurt each other with the things that hurt us, but never voiced. Suddenly, we were having all the fights we managed NOT to have.
No amount of telling each other how much we love them ever got things back to normal. When we were not fighting, we didn’t bother communicating with each other. Everyday got worst. Getting up in the morning was like another day in the battle field. And somewhere down the line, we lost ourselves. Not to each other. We lost ourselves to the savage monster that induced us to rip each other apart.
After some time, the quarrels, fights, scrimmage felt more normal than anything else. It was as easy fighting with him, as having a conversation with a good friend. We got to a point where we didn’t bother hurting each others feelings. It became a habit. A routine.
You know there are these moments in life sometimes, when you “just know”! There is no reason. No rhyme.
Like when you fall in love with a person you totally didn’t expect to? Or When you know that the other person needs you, even without him actually saying that he does? Or when you realize that something is killing you?
It’s like this day when you get up from sleep one day in the morning, after AGES of darkness, and you see light.
Light of reasoning.
Its then, you let go of what kills you. The fights. The arguments. The tears. The screams. The night you wished you were dead. The days you wanted to be alone in your bed.
You let go of what kills you and hold on to something that keeps you breathing.
“I want you to know, that there’s no one above you. No one will ever be. I love you. Always have. Always will”. With that, I left him. Forever.
Yes my heart was broken. Yes, I wished it sooo many times that it hadn’t happened. I cried when I heard “our” songs. I cried to sleep at night holding myself so that I don’t fall apart. I hid my tears from everyone, putting on a strong facade. I was gloomy.
Of course there were refluxes! There were days he would call me up in the middle of the night and I knew he was on the other side, weeping softly as he scrambled for words. I wept with him, but never let him know. There were days when I would scroll down to his name, but never get myself to call him.
And then there were days when I was high on happiness. I would let loosen resurface and let myself laugh out loud.
It was during such days when I felt sure about me letting him go. It was during such days that I missed sharing that moment with him.
I remember feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends, you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy.
And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new. And you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.
The world knows it all! They have a million books that’ll tell you how to deal post breakup. Your friends will tell you how you’re better off without him. But I guess one does know their stand at that point in life.
Its depressing. I wouldn’t deny it. It sucks! What do you do when your heart is shattered? Tiny tiny pieces of glass swept under the rug? There’s no way out. All you can do is breathe and wait for the pain to subside.
What if he was meant to be, or could have been, someone important in my life? I think that’s what scares me: the randomness of everything. That the people who could be important to you might just pass you by. Or you pass them by. How do you know… I felt that by walking away I was abandoning them, that I spent my entire life, day after day, abandoning people. It scared me. What if no one would EVER love me like he did? What if he’s the only one who’d understand when I was sad even over a text? Or the one who knew my “date” and tolerate me being cranky?
I guess the only thing I can do to get over him is just ignore him and pretend he never existed. But late at night, in my bed, I slip and all I can think about is how five months ago, it was him and me on the phone together, saying goodnight. Telling each other that the next day’s gonna be amazing. Promising each other that we’re always gonna have each other’s back.
Half the failures in life arise from pulling in the horse as he is leaping.