It’s surprising how well I do in the face of an
adversity; real or just self inflicted. I am good at offering advice, I just
did to my older brother about his girlfriend who I don’t like. But nobody in my
family or my friends know the real side of the troubled relationship that I
have been dealing with for over two years now. I lost my best friend last year
to my arrogance and pride, or a newly formed status quo and right now, I might
have people who I can refer to as friends, but none of them are close enough to
me for me to share my darkest fears, even though we might sleep on the same bed
to offer comfort and safety. There was someone who told me once that I was not
the type of a person to have a group of friends that I could call mine, rather
I’m the one who would have individual relationships with people. Even though
that’s not something I’m very proud of or what I wished for, it has turned out
to be mostly true. No, I don’t go behind my friends’ backs, but I haven’t felt
that I belonged to just one section of the crowd. And maybe that’s the reason;
I haven’t felt that I belong to any one at all. My boyfriend, or my ex
boyfriend, because it’s time I let go of him, made me a different person. And I
think the problem lies somewhere in that fact. He met a different person. He
met a socially handicapped girl who preferred to read and stay in than go out
or be friends with the whole world. Satisfied with what she had, not looking for
more on the social scene, just very ambitious and proud. Insecure but caring,
gave him too much than he had asked for, a girl for who family and him came before
anybody or anything else. But then things started to change and not all for the
negative, mind you. I became a person who started to stand for her own self,
which I hadn’t in the past and had been victimized by the “Plastics” (ignore
the Mean Girls reference, but it’s so true that it doesn’t seem to leave my
conscious, or subconscious). I started to think that I was wasting my life
staying in while everyone had stories to talk about in the coming future. I
enjoy staying in on weekends more than anything, but I didn’t find anything
wrong with going out once in a while and having a hens’ night. There, you had a
point of conflict with the boyfriend who thought he had got a domestic girl
finally after being cheated on. Before this I had never understood what “I need
my space” fuss was all about. But now, I was learning the true sense of the
phrase. Then, being yelled at a Zara store or on the phone, or being told to “Fuck
off” in front of the brother’s fiancée, or left alone at his house and the
younger brother coming to my rescue, or having your calls rejected when my
intention was to pacify or to apologize. Did I or did I not love the guy? And
he was in a different city, visiting me every 6 months, or 4. I went through so
much, quietly at first, and then began voicing it. Obviously, men hate it when
we voice what we feel, don’t they? Lectures, he called it. I am too busy for
it, he said. I’m being too dramatic, he said. And yes, in the first year of our
relationship, I never got what I loved the most, flowers. Not even once. No
chocolates. No romance. But I overlooked it. And these are the things he
promised he would do, but apparently, I never gave him the chance to. Yes, he
did pay for my air tickets which cost a fortune so that he could see me. Or
flew just to see me. I stuck around thinking that he’s doing so much for me,
that nothing else mattered. And then things got worse, I cried for the first
time because of him and he didn’t even apologize. Far from it, he cursed me for
it. Crocodile tears, he called it. But maybe because I’m upset, I’m only
mentioning the bad times, but how long can you keep remembering the rare good
times. He made promises, and broke them like candy sticks. Promised again never
to break them, and there you go back to the pavilion. I don’t even know how to
go on right now, because there’s so much, and still, there’s nothing. There’s
emptiness, though I feel the pot is full. It’s confusing. It’s confusing
whether I love him or hate him. What do you do when you love someone, but you
don’t know if you like them anymore? What do you do if you thought that this
person was the one, but it seems that he didn’t think it was the same? I waited
for him for two years to move back to Delhi but he treated me like an option,
dirt he could just wash away with his abuses or yelling, and I still waited. So
many times I told myself that “This is the last straw”, but I failed myself, I failed
my thinking and reason. I feel like a total failure who right now doesn’t have
anyone to talk about this, or cry on someone’s shoulder, but a computer with
some slow music on (Taylor Swift’s heartbroken tracks are included) and trying
to rant away and maybe post this somewhere where nobody will ever read it. Do
you ever feel alone? Well, I do. Every day. I might have a best friend, or two,
actually, no, the girl I’m closest to refuses to call me her best friend
because she thinks the term is abused. Maybe it’s a way of saying that I’m not,
but whatever it is, I know nobody is going to read it. And probably I don’t
want them to. I like to appear strong and focused, even though there might be a
storm running in my head creating chaos and havoc. My existence right now is a
total failure, that even my mum is too busy for me. I am not an “emo”, I like
happy things. Actually, I’m going to turn on my TV in a while. Watch a happy
show, and get back to feeling miserable. But cut me some slack, I just ended it
today. How long can you keep waiting for someone who treats you so bad, and
doesn’t even try to make up for it? I have never cried in the longest time, and
this man made me cry innumerable times, and is roaming around right now so
guilt free in his restaurant worrying if he should take up the job offer where
he would be heading the food and beverages department. Heartless, I’d say. He pretends
that he loves, yes. Does anything to show it or prove his love, no. Treats me
like muck, yes. So I don’t know two years of being treated like that, and still
waited, is it even worth it? Do I really love him?
