It happened on a Sunday and that was the only good thing about my break up. As soon as I hung up the phone after him, I grabbed a book, reheated my coffee and decided to let it evaporate. Like it never happened. I slept on the floor mat that night with no blanket and no pillow. It hit me subconsciously, but that wasn’t the bigger part of the problem ever.
Monday should have a universal definition, it is the day when you magically recall Friday and the piled up work. I sat on my seat at 10 and stared at the laptop for a good two hours. He used to send me jokes and I realised and that’s what made me feel alive on a Monday.
Dinner was done and the other rituals too, what I felt like doing now was calling him and telling him how I feel. The issue with ‘feelings’ is you are sure about it and mostly aware that which particular thing can make you feel better - but how do you convince someone else? Questions like why didn’t he call, is he feeling the same, what if he feels that I am too vulnerable. Modern girls aren’t supposed to be vulnerable.
I didn’t want a break up but I couldn’t stop it from happening either and that helplessness was my first realisation. The repercussion of that thing called Love. I could and I wanted my insecurities to take over me, to understand this conflict better. It is another thing that he never called, but why would he refrain from texting me? Did he really mean the break up? Or was he the type that wanted his partner to learn their place, their real place in his life. And that is how I let my insecure mind take over my ego and pride. I didn’t call him because I was stupid to imagine all these things as sacred and heart felt. True, he didn’t observe the same feelings post our break up but I made sure he didn’t know his way back.
Coffee (extra sugar, extra coffee) and F.R.I.E.N.D.S is my healing medicine. Surprisingly and not just for story sakes I didn’t feel better, I couldn’t feel better. I was done being this, this poor little darling. I love self sympathising when the weather is bad and never ever otherwise. I decided I will call him and tell him how I feel. At least rip the goddamnit bandaid and figure out whether I have to cry out an ouch or wow!
And I just kept typing, putting these stupid, random words on a paper. Talking to myself about me and in “past tense”. Something was really up. I told myself this better not be an ego trip or a how could he leave me and not feel the same trip! But I realised soon enough it was about giving up on so so many promises I had uttered and wanted to mean. About fights that were to form us not break us. I thought I made sense and I wanted him to make sense to me too. And I called him and read this little note to him that same night. And now we know each other in a better light.
To the reader, Thank you for reading this and I hope you will come back to read my second feature to this series. Yes! It is a series, stay tuned.
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