So long. So lost.

​”It just comes to me in bits and pieces. It just returns when I see you, we make eye contact and just there, our eyes turn to the other side. It just comes back to me when I see you going out with people, laughing at those inside jokes which I was a part of once. I’m still hung there, still standing behind the door I just closed on your face.

It still comes back to me. The ache.”

They say that people leave, it’s normal, it’s okay, just get over that. Well, you’ve gotten over somebody. But what if I strike up a topic that involves them too? Will your ears not widen themselves? Will you be able to stop your thoughts from verbalising themselves? 

So let me just put it this way. Don’t get over people. Simply because you can’t. Just accept that they are not there anymore, not in the stories you’ll be writing now, not in the call logs, messages, no where in your life. Stop pretending to not care when you know that they are going to affect you, even if you get successful in pretending that they don’t. Stop pretending that people’s stories come to an end as soon as they leave your life. Their stories continue, the new chapters of which are deprived of your presence. Accept that it’ll always be one of the things that’ll come to your mind when someone asks you ‘what is the one thing you wish didn’t happen?’ Accept that there will be days when you’ll find it hard to not send a text after spending an hour trying to convince yourself that a simple ‘hi’ couldn’t do any harm. Well, because then and there you’ll also know that this ‘simple hi’ will be followed by so many ‘not simple’ things. Accept that there will be days when the memories, feelings will come creeping up your skin. Accept that even if it’s 3 in the morning, and they call you asking for help, you won’t be able to sleep for a while after refusing to do so. Accept that you just can’t ‘get over’ people. You can only accept the fact that they are some where, just not here anymore. Simple as that.

Call me ‘his’.

The sky was almost red, and the sun, on the verge of hiding behind the mountains. 

“You know, the sunset, the mountains, the breeze that makes crisp leaves rub against each other, and us, sitting here looking at everything around, it all seems just like they show it in the movies.”

“It does. She brought me to this place for the first time, and that was the day I knew that this place would always become the crib whenever the kid inside me would cry.”

“So that’s why you’ve been coming here for months now. Tell me, what will you do if she appears in front of you just now? Do you still feel the same for her?”

His face twitched. And he said, “I’ll do nothing. And I’ll feel nothing.”
I turned my face away from him, dissatisfied by the answer he gave. Because somewhere deep down we both knew that he was lying. 
After a pause, he said, “I’m sorry but I don’t know what I’ll be doing. I don’t know what I’ll be feeling. But it won’t ever be nothing. I have to be honest with you. I’ve moved on from her and the hopes of us being together. I’ve stopped dreaming of building my world with her as an inseparable part of it. My aspirations and ambitions are the same. I’m still my old self, strong, merry and confident, working as hard as I can to make a difference in this world. With her, I had started imagining that amidst everything that I want in life, she’s there too. In fact, I had started believing that she was the most important of them all. And moving on for me is, removing her from the list. But yet, if she comes to me, I won’t ever be able to feel nothing for her. I won’t love her, ofcourse. I can’t hate her too. But there surely be a burst of emotions, a myriad of memories that’ll come flashing back, an ache in the heart, maybe just for a milisecond, but it’ll be there. I know. And those emotions that would last for a split of the second, would be strong and would cost me my senses. I don’t know how it’ll pass, but it will. After all, our hearts are fidgets, trying to open themselves while you lock them from the people you gave their keys to, once. After all, you cannot just stop feeling something for people you once felt a lot for.”

I turn towards him, our eyes looking into each other’s, his filled with helplessness and mine with desperation. I ask “So, I won’t ever be her then?”
He put his hands on mine, smiled and said, “No, you are not like her. And believe me, I’m surviving life on the belief that you won’t ever be her. Because she left while you stayed.”

I smiled.