Was It Just Me?

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The night fell dark, darker than it should. I know it is over, there is no hope left, but should I try it one last time? That is all I could think of if I should give it another try. Will it be worth it? Or wait, am I too quick? Am I not sure of what I want? Maybe. Or rather I am afraid. Afraid that my feelings will never be understood. But there is something that makes my heart skip a beat whenever I think of everything we have shared. Everything was lovely until it shattered like a palace of cards. A soft wind blew us apart. Was it just me who felt that way?

 

 

Do you spend your time reading and re-reading old text messages exchanged with someone who was once someone you shared so much of yourself with, and now they feel like a stranger? No, you don’t. And yes, I do. I know I shouldn’t. I mean, why waste my time on something that will never be the same again. How I wish I could go back in time and never let that time come again. Never let anybody pull my guards down.

Never let anybody even peep in because, in reality, the story repeats itself. People say give yourself a chance; maybe you will see different and positive results. But guess what ‘people’ – the results are always the same—every single time. Then there comes the point when you want to stop trying. Although it pains not being around people you love, you still decide to let it go. No matter what it takes, you are fine for some days.

Day 1: Done.

Day 2: Done.

Day 3: Good. [did not read old conversations the entire day]

Day 4: I’m better. [did not login to Facebook to stalk]

Day 5: end of any such discussions with friends. You go out. Enjoy.

Day 6: “hi! Good morning.”

BAM!! And when you think you are through, you receive this message early in the morning.

When everything feels right, this happens, and every memory comes flooding back. But you know what? This doesn’t feel wrong either. Now I prepare myself for another few days of melancholy, where I know I will not be texting or receiving any texts and will be sitting there reading the conversations all by myself. You don’t feel me. You don’t feel any of it. You are fine, well, happier in life. That doesn’t mean I am sad in life. I have lovely parents and a crazy and amazing group of friends around me, but you know something is missing. It all feels a little empty. This shouldn’t have happened so soon if we see the amount of time we have known each other.

But maybe I had begun to live my little infinity there. As if the connection was unbreakable. But it broke. The story ends even before it could have a proper beginning. I was fine before you, and I know I will be fine after you because I knew you would leave one day. But I guess I was wrong. They couldn’t judge me all that well. But now I am learning and eventually pulling up my guards again, and now no one will ever get a chance of pulling it down again. I will never give myself a chance again.

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