I learnt the art of pretense at a very early age. When everyone in class would narrate stories about their parents, or sketch a perfect family, I would pretend. I would pretend that theirs still fell short of the dream that was mine. Some dream it was indeed.
Over the years, I mastered the art of faking happiness until I didn't know my real laugh from the fake one - until a friend pointed it out and I couldn't even believe it. Until I learnt to believe that there was no such thing as happiness because no matter what I did, I would always come home to this - this mess of an affair.
I learnt how to stew - how to let the rage rise inside of me and boil over and destroy me. I would break apart and howl and scribble furiously until there was nothing left - no anger, no hate, no tears - nothing - just a tortured sleep.
I learnt how to hold back my emotions - most of all my tears. I learnt how to hurt myself just so nobody would get the satisfaction of getting there first. I would take the blade out and make a two-inch long scar every single time those tears threatened to spill over; then I would wash my oozing blood under a stream of water so it'd sting - sting enough to distract me from the pain inside of my chest.
I learnt how to run away. I knew how I couldn't stand another second in the same room as you so I ran - at the first opportunity I got and as far as I could possibly go. I thought I'd put enough distance between us to drown out your screams but destiny found a way to bite me in the ass and how.
I learnt how to hold back curses - how to not wish ill for the damned person that you are. I would come this close and tell myself I was better, that I wasn't going to be like you, that my love would run on love and not hatred and loathing.
But the lesson that took the longest and sucked the most ?
That no matter how much I learn, you'll still find new ways to break me and teach me some more - that I'll forever be learning... At your mercy.
Over the years, I mastered the art of faking happiness until I didn't know my real laugh from the fake one - until a friend pointed it out and I couldn't even believe it. Until I learnt to believe that there was no such thing as happiness because no matter what I did, I would always come home to this - this mess of an affair.
I learnt how to stew - how to let the rage rise inside of me and boil over and destroy me. I would break apart and howl and scribble furiously until there was nothing left - no anger, no hate, no tears - nothing - just a tortured sleep.
I learnt how to hold back my emotions - most of all my tears. I learnt how to hurt myself just so nobody would get the satisfaction of getting there first. I would take the blade out and make a two-inch long scar every single time those tears threatened to spill over; then I would wash my oozing blood under a stream of water so it'd sting - sting enough to distract me from the pain inside of my chest.
I learnt how to run away. I knew how I couldn't stand another second in the same room as you so I ran - at the first opportunity I got and as far as I could possibly go. I thought I'd put enough distance between us to drown out your screams but destiny found a way to bite me in the ass and how.
I learnt how to hold back curses - how to not wish ill for the damned person that you are. I would come this close and tell myself I was better, that I wasn't going to be like you, that my love would run on love and not hatred and loathing.
But the lesson that took the longest and sucked the most ?
That no matter how much I learn, you'll still find new ways to break me and teach me some more - that I'll forever be learning... At your mercy.
I feel for you kid. I stopped being her second father and actively accepted the fact that I was her first crush. :-) Realized while I needed to play that role so that I had the right to make her listen but after I had established that right it was just torture to insist on continuing that role.
ReplyDelete:-)
RE: pretence. when I was 3, one play friend insisted his dad was the best fighter in the world. I accepted statement as possible but maybe not probable. second play friend insisted his dad was the best fighter. then third. friend also insisted. all accepted each other statements and were happy and I realized I actually think differently. :-) with logic. :-) Surely ALL three dads were not the best fighters in the world? :-)
ReplyDeleteBut love ka logic aisa hi hota hain. :-)
ReplyDeleteBut DONT be at his mercy. GIVE your love actively. to your dad. your mom. to puppies. to kids. :-)
ReplyDeleteLove HAS to go out. :-) If I can not escape her I can not imagine how she can escape me? :-) wherever she needs to go she first needs to go through me. :-) and I realized I HAD TO stop torturing both of us by reading you. :-)
ReplyDelete