The day which is a nightmare to all those in a relationship had arrived at my doorstep. I got to answer its call.I pulled out my all-time favourite jet black jeans and white shirt from my wardrobe and got ready without a glimpse of joy. Sometimes in life, we got to accept a few things in life irrespective of the amount of pain they create in your life. Fighting my tears back, I started my bike…
Four years ago, I saw this girl. Until now, I’m not able to figure out two things - what impressed me about her (was it her dark brown eyes, her curly hair, her innocence, her eyebrows, her extra cute smile, or her chubby cheeks? I don’t know!) and why she left me (no clue at all for that).
Mine is a normal love story. As usual, I had a crush on my classmate and proposed to her. She accepted me after a few days. Dating, meetings, fights, compromises, smiles at times, tears, laughter, kisses, hugs etc., carried on for quite a while.
Three years later, our college life ended and our meetings declined gradually.
One day, we both fought and didn’t speak for a week or so. I never knew that this one day would ruin my entire relationship and that it was going to be my first and last love.
Things changed between us that day and she wasn’t even interested to speak to a guy, whom she promised never to leave his side, anymore. After all, promises are made to be broken.
I waited for her to come back someday and was planning for the celebrations. But this news hit me like a hurricane. The hope was lost, forever. I was completely shattered. Darkness hugged me tightly. I couldn’t become a drunkard nor kill myself. The reality was too bitter to accept.
Yes, she was engaged. While I was waiting for her arrival back into my life, someone else had already entered her life. The date was set and obviously, I was not invited to her wedding. Somehow, I got to know about the happenings.
Despite not being invited, I decided to go to her wedding. My heart was pounding like never before and I didn’t know why. I picked up a bouquet on the way and warned him not to use red roses. I paid the shopkeeper, reminding myself that this would be the last time I was going to be spending for my love. I entered the venue on time. I saw her on the projector screen put outside.
She was holding her husband’s hand; her lips had a smile prettier than ever.
In that dress, she was a treat to my eyes and I managed myself in a way that I was not seen by her. And finally, I stood at the corner of the stage to wish her on that auspicious occasion. Our eyes met after a year. Though it was for a second, there were millions of things communicated between us.
Her smile froze. She left his hand. Her eyes turned red.
It was my turn to wish the couple. I walked to her, handed over the bouquet, extended my hand. My lips curved a strange smile, the way they hadn’t ever smiled ever before in the past 23 years. She looked at the ground, and then, turned towards the camera.
I don’t know what to call it, but photographer asked me to stand beside her as more number of people were standing on the groom’s side. And he says “smile please!”
She was in between me and her husband. I left it to god to decide who made a better pair. And then my mobile captured the last selfie with her.
I finally stepped down, from the stage as well as her life. It has been a month ever since. I still search for answers to the questions left unanswered by her. I stare into the void at 2 am thinking about her. Maybe my mind has forgotten how to sleep.
The thing about men is that we can’t afford to cry. I feel like crying my heart out and getting exhausted so that I could sleep.
The only way to escape from reality is to sleep, maybe forever. Her Facebook profile states a different name now. With a profile picture that’s enough to kill me. I feel a burn in my stomach every time I see them.