Thank you; I can NEVER trust anyone again. People who flatter you endlessly—do you really think they love you? They don't. They love your success, ONLY. And God help you if you ever fall, these people vanish too. So next time, try not to wound those who actually care—whoever they may be, they're the ones who'll stand beside you when the world turns away. To the world, you may be a saint, but to me, you're someone who destroyed my perfect life. I know you'd get some twisted satisfaction if I told you how badly I fell for you. You could use me as proof of how 'charming' you are to the next boy you'll speak to. (Or have already used? Who knows!) At this point, I really don't care anymore.
When you pretended to accept everything I wanted you to accept, you should have realized I'm not one of those cheap boys who flirt with a different girl every other day. To you, I was just another random guy you loved to pass time with. But you were the ONLY girl I let into my life in 28 years! You pretended to have feelings for me. And my greatest mistake was loving everything you said; you were false, I was not. You led me on, made me fall for you, and then when you realized how badly I'd fallen, you lost interest and threw me out of your life. At first, I was in denial. I couldn't believe I could be SO wrong about you; I couldn't believe you weren't who I thought you were. I couldn't believe the cheap mentality hiding behind that decent face of yours… so deceptive! Deceptive; yes, that's what it was!
And still I couldn't hate you. Instead, I started hating myself—disgusted by how much priority I'd given you, how much feeling I'd wasted on the wrong person. You've damaged me. I didn't deserve this. You had no right to enter my life and play with it when you never meant to stay. Now I understand: the ability to hate is a gift. It makes life easier—you can pour all your rage onto the object of your hatred, blame it for everything that goes wrong, even something as random as a crow shitting on you. Funny, isn't it? Sometimes the inability to hate is a blessing too. Hatred holds you prisoner, keeps you from moving forward, constantly reminding you of the very thing you want to forget. But what troubles me is the gray space between this 'hate not-hate' puzzle. How would you explain it?
I would sit for hours staring at a book, and even the kindest words would stare back at me, mockingly.
Every few minutes, I would check my cell phone with little hope to see a small envelope sign at its top left corner. A message, even if it were a monosyllable ‘hm’ from the number with seven and three as its last digits, was ALL I would look forward to in an entire day. My heart would miss a beat every freaking time my phone buzzed……but your text never came, NEVER!
For someone like me, who has never done anything in his life apart from dreaming of being or being with fictional characters of books and movies, being in love with both melody and its creators, feeling what I write. Keeping away from the old passions is something like refusing to breathe. I could hardly sleep, even if I could, luckily, I’d see you in my dreams! I could not take you hovering in my head 24/7 any longer…….it was getting unbearable with each passing day. And then came a point when I desperately wanted to call you and ask you to treat me nicely, I wanted you to be with me, talk to me even if all of it were pretence, all words just fake. I, who had been habituated with refusing all the goddamn gorgeous girls around, whose every single wish got fulfilled at home even before he demanded, was on the verge of begging you for your time!
But I never called. Neither did I text. It’d kill me inside, but I made it a point that I’d never inbox you FIRST. You’d inbox me every 4/5 days asking me how I was. Do you know how it sounded? It was like a person who threw another person on to the fire and then kept asking the latter how he was feeling at every 5 minutes interval! I’d stare at the message for a long time, a hundred thoughts racing my mind, another hundred stabs wounding my heart. Then I would reply with a small ‘not bad’ followed by a full stop. I started to like full stops! You never heard the cries of desperation behind that ‘not bad’ of mine, never saw the tears in my eyes through that ‘not bad’, never felt the intensity of my emotions that the insignificant ‘not bad’ echoed…….did you?
Do you know why I never called or texted or inboxed you first? Because I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to take it if you didn’t reply or pick up my call. I was scared of not being able to handle your neglect. I was scared of not being able to wait long enough for that reply, what if it never came? That is what you did to my self-esteem—shattered it to pieces, stamped it with your feet until it turned to dust. And all the while you acted like nothing had happened. You were living your perfect happy life while I was dying inside.
During those countless, sleepless nights I would often ask myself—was it all fake?
# Did you not feel a thing?
Did you not feel a thing? Really? How could you not feel that burning chemistry that sparked between us? Was it really one-sided? How could I be so sure about you while being SO wrong? I never had the courage to ask you if you ever felt anything for me. Reason being the same: fear in my mind—about maybe what you’d say would just crush me more. And I was not ready to accept it. I wanted to believe that no matter how temporary it was, it was real, that it had at least some meaning. But it never had any meaning, not for you and therefore not for me….…until yesterday…….
But you know what? You are not the end of my world. You don’t have the capability to feel with the depth with which I feel. You can NEVER be true to anyone; you can never be true to yourself. I laugh at myself for liking someone who wasn’t worthy of my feelings. But I feel pity for you. Because you let someone like me go; someone who would have stopped the world for you. I know you won’t feel guilty. You are probably laughing at me right now or taking a sadistic pride in your control over my emotions. You will probably say that you treated me ‘just as a friend’ and that I misunderstood everything. And you will probably never realize that what you did to me was wrong; actually, women of your type never do. You play with someone’s feelings and when you get bored you switch to the next guy. Then again I don’t care anyone anymore. Thankfully, I don’t even want you anymore. I am telling you all this neither because I want any answer from you nor because I want your sympathy but because I want closure on you. You were a bad dream and I woke up from it. Did you just get your answer?
You said those 3 words, 8 letters, and I went blank. Complete black-out. Pin-drop silence. The world around me stopped—grasping the magnitude of the moment, absorbing it as much as it could. Now, I don’t want to ask you anything. I finally got my closure on you. I finally got my answer. I can finally rest because all my feelings were not pointless, after all. It doesn’t matter even if you don’t mean it. I just needed to hear it once. By saying it out loud, you have freed me from yourself…….now I have no strings attached to you………… Thank you for my happiness.
Its really nice and true fact of life. thank you, sir. you can easily say the actual side of life. everybody doesn’t do it.
It is just awesome! Only they who have passed their days with this sorrows, know the reality of this speach!
Its really inspiring speec. Thank you!
Keen thoughts.