Just like everyone else here, I too have a story.
I’m 22 years old and I’m currently finishing my post-graduation.
In the past nine years, I have experienced a lot of things in my life: the joy of being loved, the pain of losing a lover and the agony of living with my parents who don’t support or understand me.
It all began when I was in the 9th grade.
It was the first time that my heart did something other than pump out blood; it beat for someone else.
And what was even better, I found out that he felt the same way about me. Of course, I wasn’t going to say anything to him. It was only after a few months, that he came and told me that he loved me.
I still remember how I blushed. I had no answer for him at that time, but after a while, I did say yes. I was shy, it took me a while to open up to him. But for us, not talking seemed to work, and we would stare into each other’s eyes for hours in our tuition class.
Finally, we were done with our H.S.L.C. exams and he went on to take up science and I followed Arts. This division of streams started creating a distance between us, but we spoke on the phone endlessly.
While this seemed enough initially, things slowly began to change.
The more I tried to stay in touch with him, the farther away he went from me. There were times when he didn’t reply to any messages or phone calls.
At first, I was worried, but soon then, I was enraged.
How could he do this to me?
Why was he doing this to me?
Did I do something wrong?
Or say something wrong?
All these questions began rising in my mind, but I didn’t have answers to them.
There were days when he would come rushing to me, with apologies, and I would forgive him instantly. But all his promises of never doing it again, were just empty promises.
And I’m always just left with an empty question, Why?