Forgiveness.

Dear you,

I guess I know why I have been unable to write - something that my future legit depends on - because all the letters in my head are currently addressed to you. Until I can get those out, I won't be able to write about anything even slightly meaningful to me. I was trying to avoid this because I'm scared, I genuinely am, as to what this will do to me emotionally, writing this letter to you. For once, I don't have tears in my eyes though. Maybe they'll make their way as I struggle to find the right words for you, one more time. Here goes another futile attempt at closure. 

I don't want this letter to be anything bitter. I've been so angry at you lately, that it has consumed my entirety and honestly, I was never good at carrying some emotions - anger, guilt, anxiety. I'm more at the psychotic end of the spectrum - seeking thrill, adventure and even total annihilation if that's what life and love leads me to but this neurosis? Nope, not my style and is exhausting beyond measure. Anyway, I digress. 

I've framed so many hate mails to you and your family in my head, that this is somehow not coming naturally to me. I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for this because nobody in your world has done anything for any of you to deserve this, but I guess this is more for me than anyone else... 

                         I forgive you. 

I forgive you for never looking back or reaching out. I forgive you for moving on one day after our break up. I forgive you for never understanding my love for you and undermining it in front of everyone who mattered to you. I forgive you for discarding and deleting people from my life who loved you immensely and tried to reach out to you repeatedly, siding with you, despite everything. I forgive you for forgetting my mother. 

I forgive you.

I forgive you for not holding me at the end, as I lamented the loss of my happily ever after. I forgive you for not meeting me one last time and then blaming me for it. I forgive you for removing all reminders of me from your life and building a love on my remains. I forgive you for taking all of our dreams, my dreams, and gifting them to your new girl on a platter. I forgive you for picking 2020 as the year you'll marry her, (it was mine!). 

I forgive you.

I forgive you for the social media love outburst you display each day, with no changes in the manner that you used to write for me/us. I even forgive you for citing your names as research co-authors, forgetting when and for whom you did it first. I forgive you for forgetting all our firsts, dreams, promises, the names of our never-to-be-born son. I forgive you for sharing Rockstar and Tamasha with her. 

I forgive you.

I bring myself to forgive you for all the hate you sent my way once we were over - for shaking my faith in love and humanity and friendship. I forgive you for never believing in me or the best version of me that I tried so hard to be with you. I forgive you for breaking me beyond recognition. I forgive you for never listening to 'Unspoken' the story that I only told because you were a part of my life. 

I forgive you.

I forgive you for all the gynaecological problems loving you led me to. I forgive you for not supporting me when I needed it most, just because it was hard for you, despite you having someone to comfort you all along. I forgive you for denying me closure. I forgive you for always sowing that seed of doubt in my heart that I'm unworthy of love, I'm not a good person, I deserved all the horrible things that happened to me.

I forgive you.

As hard as it is, I forgive you Firdaus. I forgive you for being another Anshuman. I forgive you for stealing what your name meant to me (long before you happened even) forever. I forgive you for carrying me in your subconscious and making your entire relationship a replica of ours. I forgive you for not being as progressive and open-minded as you claimed to be. I forgive you for not having the strength to fight your parents for me. I forgive you for you lying to me about their apparent liking for me. I even forgive you for making me a cynic forever. 

I forgive you because it's time. I forgive you for the apology that you'll never send and for not knowing why you needed to. I will keep waiting for a day to meet and hug you goodbye, the right way this time, but that's not happening. You've forgotten what we meant to each other and I guess that's okay. It must be hard to accept we were good and then continue to be a douche to me. Attitudes and behaviour cannot remain in conflict forever, right? So I forgive you for being the worst nightmare of mine, for ruining my favourite year 2018 and now for your exquisite plan to ruin 2020 too. I forgive you for not caring about me. I forgive you for being so petty and shallow during the breakup and after that I no longer recognise who you are. I forgive you for getting us to a place where despite sharing a large part of our lives, dreams and goals, we can never reach out to the other. I forgive you for making me a psychotic villain (#Durga), for ruining my memory of us, for replacing me within 24 hours, for giving up. 

All my life I've had people give up on me. I forgive you for convincing me that you never would, for making me love again, only to pull the rug out from under me when I needed it most. I forgive you for coming into my life when I was in a happy relationship, show me how it wasn't all that I needed, make me doubt everything and believe in you - only for you to do it all over again with her; for you to abandon me in totality and instead devote your time and energy into 'saving her' from her relationship. I forgive you for not telling me when you moved on. I forgive you for using your parents as an excuse against me and then for convincing them for everything I ever wanted for us, only with her. I forgive you for leading me on, during the most important years of my life, only to leave me stranded eventually.

I forgive you for changing. 

I forgive you for the transition from my perfect dream to my perfect nightmare. I forgive you for being my Thunder only to watch you share this with her too. I genuinely forgive you. You didn't do any of this intentionally. This is just how things turned out. I don't know how much of this was conscious/subconscious/unconscious; what was motivated by your insecurities and family issues and what stemmed from my horrid past experiences and inability to reassure you of my love. How much of this was me testing you endlessly and how much was you constantly running away and me trying to hold on, I'll never know. 

So, I forgive you.

I forgive you because I cannot hold on to you any more. 

I just cannot.

I cannot wait for you to do the decent, human, kind thing anymore so I'm doing it for you. Forgiving you for all the things you never will ask forgiveness for. 

I forgive you. I forgive you for this deplorable end. 

We were good. I'm sorry you forgot four years worth of memories in less than 48 hours. I'm sorry I couldn't hold on for longer. I'm sorry I couldn't reach out to you again, only to be disrespected or worse still, ignored, one more time, in one more novel manner. Trust me I tried.

In the end, I forgive you most for being your father's son. Expecting you would stand up for me was a fantasy really when you never could stand up for yourself or your mother or for what you thought was right or even what you knew was right. I know it was your greatest fear that you'd end up being the martyr between the two of us, but guess what, you were more him than her all along. 

And here I am, the hopeless romantic, heartbroken, (still!) and finding the strength from somewhere within to write this apology to us. 

Your 

(True) Martyr 

Getting through October

My dreams are made of all the possibilities of a decent, normal closure that I so yearn for. I feel so happy, satisfied and content in my dreams that we have been able to achieve that and the reality is obviously a rude contrast. In actuality, there have been no pleasantries, no considerations, just silence, misunderstandings and anger. As soon as I begin to try to make peace with the latter, my subconscious draws me into an impossible dream. But if there's some way to remember us by, I would rather believe in an alternate ending. I don't think this is how I want to remember the story so I'm just going to pretend it isn't until I change it or accept it. Nobody should have to be forced to hate their favourite person at some point (read: you) just because they couldn't match that ideal forever. 

Happy Belated Birthday.

One day I'll wish you again. 

Missing.

*

I waited.

You came, eventually.

It seemed like forever passed us in between.

Do you know me now?

Do I dare to care?

Are we to pick up where we left off?

I'm here aren't I?

Maybe we should just try to tell ourselves a good lie,

You didn't mean to make me cry?

-

We were happy?

Some people believe at their very core that they are not worthy of happiness which is why they will do everything to destroy it even when it's well within their reach. Most run, avoid, escape happiness from the very start but there are a few who will chase it, nail it down and then ensure they become the reason behind it's complete and total annihilation. It's seen a lot in patients seeking therapy. They report relationships breaking repeatedly, unaware of their pattern and if aware, unable to change it. 

Am I one of them? 

I know there have been things that have haunted me from the very start of life. Try as you may, not everything can be erased - not memories and definitely not nightmares. Just when you think you've outrun your demons, new ones are formed, much worse than the ones you had learnt to fight against. You're one of them now, and nothing pains me more. You, the one who would have me breaking into a smile on my worst day is now a reservoir of misery. You are the one whom I can't hate or love.

Were you ever you then or are you ever you now?

I can't, don't, won't reach out to you. There's a lot I want to say but that's a door I've had to close for myself. I thought we could talk, acknowledge, validate and maybe find some peace in the abrupt closure that was thrust on us. But then I recall, it wasn't thrust at all. You chose it. You continue to choose it everyday. Your rigidity over our sanity. Your demons over our truth. You over us, always. Maybe it was a long time coming.

Are you too tired of fighting? Is there absolutely no fight left in you?

The pain of the matter is I know you. Really know you. That is perhaps why I can't hate you. But I can remain angry and I am. An apology email doesn't cut it anymore. I'm sorry for a lot but not this. I ache on days like today when I see all the happy memories of us (and boy there are so many) and realize they weren't enough, that nothing was enough for you. Or me. Or us. And I realize that I'm fucked because if that wasn't - if that wasn't it - nothing ever can be.

Can it?

The saddest thing of all is that you will never believe what you meant to me. You were redemption - God's way of making up for all the shit in my life. My smile, my joy, my happiness. My faith in goodness. My reason to be better. The one who could inspire me and support me and drive me like none other. The one who knew me better than myself. The one who made me believe in "the one". My everything. My thunder.

Until you weren't. 

Gnaw.

Memories spring up from where you least expect them. So much of this town is tainted. I reach somewhere and suddenly the wind leaves my lungs, my airway is deficient and choked, and I have lost all sense of time and place. I am ready to break down, I do break down internally but how many times can I find a corner to silently weep in? I think I've learnt the art of weeping on the inside constantly instead. I don't think anybody thinks about people, places, songs, and cities the way I do. Many people have ruined many things for me but you took this to a whole new level. It's not even on you - it's on me and my inability to dissociate. It's not the end that has ruined it all - it's the complete and utter loss of meaning to every memory - was it all a lie, a pretence, did I "steal you from your parents" all along? Was there no free will? Are my favourite memories your worst nightmares? I think I can't be the villain in anybody's story and being the only one in yours is what hits me most. Nobody else knows what we went through but surely you do, right? Surely you don't hate me as much as you say, right? Right?

I hate that I'm always left wondering! Why must I be forced to rethink everything? Why can't it just be something beautiful but not everlasting? No, it must be scarred and I must be blamed. I empathize and I understand the world and then when nothing is left of me, I empathize some more. But never am I granted the benefit of the doubt I so easily give to those I love. You know what this questioning does to me? Do you? I constantly second guess myself. I struggle with self love. I always doubted my physical beauty now I doubt my inner one too. It's not fair to my parents, who raised me so much better than this; it's not fair to my friends whom I constantly hold to extremely high standards; it's not fair to the person I'm with because I always alternate between being too enmeshed or too distant but most of all it's not fair to me! Why must I be the one left in doubt? Why can't I just be allowed to treasure my past as opposed to constantly run from it?

In the end, you're all the same, with all the same promises and the exact same heartbreak.
And yet here I am again, hoping that unlike you, he'll always remember us this way.
Hopeless romantic much?


PS: Thank you Ad-mad, if you're reading, for being the only exception. 

"I see my future in your eyes"

There's way too much pain and I'm drowning. Where's my lifejacket? I think I found floaters but they're running out of air and I'm grabbing on to lifeboats that were pirate ships to begin with. I have to do this on my own, I say to myself. But I don't. I constantly need someone to hold my hand through things and I hate that about myself. I think I'm scared of the alternative - not because of how much it will suck but because of how comfortable I will eventually get at being alone, enough to never let anyone in, even slightly, again. I could finally find out what it's like - fighting to stay alive - maybe it's time - sink or swim baby. 

Doori.

He said to her: 

"Kehne ko hum paas hai par, kitni doori hai

Yeh bhi kaisi majboori hai?

Tumse hamdardi bhi nahi kar sakta main,

Meri bas ki baat nahi hai

Main ye behte aansu ponchu,

Itni meri aukat nahi hai.

Main bhi yahin hun

Tum bhi yahi ho

Par sach ye hai ki main hun kahin

Tum aur kahin ho

Kehne ko hum paas hai par, kitni doori hai
Yeh bhi kaisi majboori hai?"

She smiled. 
He finally understood what she had known all along but struggled to explain. 

She said:

साथ होके  भी  साथ  ना  थे,
अब दूर होके भी दूर नहीं
सबकी हमदर्दी के बिना ही जी हुन मैं हमेशा,
अपने आँसू पोछना बन गया हैं मेरा पेशा |
मजबूरी नही थी पर मजबूर हैं हम,
हमारी यादों से भी अब अनजान हैं हम |
दूरी तो सिर्फ एक बहाना हैं,
तुम्हें अपने आप से जो भागते जाना है...
पर मैं हूँ यहीं
तुम भी यहीं हो,
पर तुम हो नही
क्या तुम वही हो?

No title needed.

Today, I'm so upset that I don't think I can bother myself with making sense or coming up with a title for the post. Today, I want to scream endlessly into my pillow and weep till my eyes fall out. Today, I realize this is just another year, just another thing I need to get through. All my life has been a series of 'getting' through something. Everything but TISS (that was a dream). Getting through a day of school, getting through a day without anyone noticing me, getting by without hating myself, getting through without wanting to kill myself... I've been getting by.

Usually I do a pretty good job too - I almost even convince myself most times that I'm a happy, sociable, likeable, loveable person. However today it all seems to be a lie and the lie is catching up fast. It seems I have been lying to myself all along. I have been pretending. The truth of the matter is I'm none of this. I had the potential to be but life has sucked it out of me. And frankly, I'm tired.

Also, I understand it is too damn soon to be tired. It only gets worse from here. That's the thing - all this knowledge and self-awareness is torture. Lately I don't know what I want. On the rare occasions that I do, I am unable to work towards it. I am just such a fucking failure in my own eyes because values such as being a good human, empathetic listener, loyal friend are not ones that are celebrated in this country.

My eyes have dried up so I don't even cry anymore. I just wallow within, getting more and more uneasy - and quiet, horribly quiet. I have always been the one person who understands everyone but somehow in this whole world I haven't found a single person who truly understands me. And true, maybe this is all a part of bloody adulting. Then I want to ask god someone, anyone, where the fuck my childhood is?

Why was I never allowed to be a child?