the ‘You and me’ kind of confession

Dear you,

I have come a long way. But your memories, our memories still bring pangs of agony. I read everywhere that we should learn to let go. Learn to know when to give up. Learn to know when it’s time to walk away.  I did it. I walked away. But I still look back. And I still hurt. I don’t know if there will ever be a time when you are just a name in the list of names I no longer care about. I don’t know if I will ever be able to see your face in random friend’s wall and feel no tightening of the chest.

We are really far away from each other. And somehow it gives me a sense of relief, that there is no chance, no probability of me ever bumping into you. Because I don’t know if I have forgotten you enough to not care what you think of me.

You know what the trouble is with losing a best friend? You not only lose that one person in your life you thought was never going to leave your side, you are left with a huge blank in your life. A gaping hole in your soul which used to be filled with all the happy memories and time spent with your best friend. It’s like starting fresh in life. Only difference is, now you no longer feel comfortable enough to bare your soul the way you did with your best friend. Now you no longer believe you can find someone who is ever going to understand you or accept you the way you are. Now you no longer have a friend to lean on or share your happiness with. The trouble with losing your only best friend is, you are now all alone and no one has your back. No one to massage oil in your hair every alternate night. No one to go crazy with over a boy crush. No one to watch Korean dramas all through the night. No one to help you cross the road. No one to drag you along to watch the same movie twice just so your best friend could sit next to her crush. No one to be with while you grow into your own kind of person. Now you have nothing to look back on and smile. Because your every memory is tainted. Because all your memories are connected to that one person you are no longer connected with.

me…

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She said it right. “HEARTBREAK IS THE NATIONAL ANTHEM AND WE SING IT PROUDLY!!”

Another truth this new year. 😉
When I write I am always the victim. The truth is I always try to write stuff from the prospective of the other side of the story. And I was always so engrossed in looking the other way and trying to find why someone would do wrong, how someone who does wrong is also suffering, I forgot to look at the side where people actually get hurt. Mostly my stories are about some emotions I am feeling and writing kind of exaggerates it. I build up stories and maybe in some way try to prove to myself that I am not in the wrong or that, if I did something horrible it’s because I had a valid reason behind it. Reasons which no one could see and hence no one would ever understand. I always tried to find ways to play the victim. But the thing is I did hurt people. No matter what my intentions were, what my back story was. I am hurting people. I have hurt people. Because I was too stubborn to see the things as they were. Maybe because I thought I could never do anything wrong. I tried too much to romanticize every situation. And I got fed up of myself.
In reality I am a cruel person. Maybe it’s the only way I can hide my hyper-sensitivity. Maybe I am just not a good person. I don’t know. There is no excuse for being this way. I just don’t like appearing weak and needy. I hate asking for help, for favors, for anything which would put me in someone else’s debt. I hate owning the imaginary ‘IOUs’. I think everyone should just shut up about themselves and just bear their share of emotional burden and everything they think is wrong with the world.
The way I do it is through writing. I forget that not everyone is like me (And thank God for that!). Everyone vents out in different ways. They do not have the same outlet to vent frustration as me. And they don’t need to. My way is no ‘righter’ than their’s.
When I look back and go through stuffs that I wrote, I see that I am always the one being wronged. The fact is, I can, and no one can stop me from writing the way I want to, from being who I am, for feeling the way I feel. It might not be conventional, but it’s me. And I don’t care if they judge me. And in the same way, they too are right to use any means they find comfortable to share emotions. If they want to whine their heart out or if they want to keep it quiet and gulp down that shot. I am no one to judge them. I don’t know how to get over this judgmental attitude. Is just ignoring them the right way??!
I guess I am kind of obsessed with the right thing the right way and the right everything!
I forget that there is no one right way of doing stuff. I realize that I am not here to find the right or the wrong ways. It’s neither my responsibility nor my place to play moral police. I should learn to just live my own life the way I see fit and the way I enjoy it the most. What matters is the right way for me. I only want to be proud of myself, what I do and look myself in the mirror and love myself and sleep with peace at night.