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Posts tagged ‘despondency’

Picture Perfect.. Really?

Words spoken. Words written. Words read and understood. Words that affect one in a way that nothing ever has. They make one wonder, they take one on imaginary trips to a time, a place of fantasy. Of peace and love. Of harmony. Of a time when one didn’t exist.

At least not to them. They were two hearts, two souls in love. For now and for eternity. They bore each other’s pain, each other’s sorrow. They unburdened their tribulations on one another. They hurt each other. They fought. But they made up. And were more deeply in love than ever. They were perfect for each other. He loved everything about her. Her feisty nature, her long curly hair, her short stature, her mood swings, her brilliance, that he found so rare in others of her species. She loved his steadfast reliability, his composition in the face of crisis, his ability to soothe her fears with just a ‘hello’. His unpretentious nature, his courage. They were meant to be. In every way possible.

The universe thought otherwise. They were seperated by a divide. And what they thought was a perfect world was quickly befouled by what society dictated. He was being sucked into a quagmire that he could only break out of if he were ready to forsake everything he held close. His peers advised him to do it. What did they know, they were young and as hot blooded as he. She waited at the banks, watching him suffer, sinking deeper and deeper, helpless, unable to reach out, try as she might. And then she watched him go under. She waited. He had left, never to return.

He loves someone else today, the memory of his beautiful past all but gone. The scars remain, but his present is a lot sunnier. He is happy, he is making progress in all aspects of his life.  She sometimes wonders if she had met him first, how different would things have been. She wonders what it would have been like to be the first woman he kissed.

Somewhere in the depths of one’s soul, something stirs. Something rankles, making one think about what could have been. If today would be a reality if yesterday was altered. If one needs to live life under rules put down by an abstract institution, rules that really are just a product of a few warped imaginations. If fighting for your love is really worth it. Should dreams remain just that – dreams that may never be fulfilled? Why should you be shown something potentially beautiful, only to be snatched away?

Society argues – do not make a choice if you cannot justify it. What kind of choice is society really giving me then, if what I choose will only be overruled? Society says you are too young to understand the implications. How young is too young? And even if they were older and made the same choice society wouldn’t approve, so I sense the tidings of some vintage hypocrisy here. The truth is, you have no choice. You do whatever it takes to keep society happy and you live with it. If you are the type. If you fight for it, you fight for the rest of your lives.

*** My apologies. Comments are disabled on this post. ***

55 Fiction – "Those 3 Words"

Beyond what point would she stop feeling, she wondered. She let herself feel the wind in her hair, smell the fragrance of the spring, the sunlight kissing her upturned nose. No time to dwell or to reflect. Her feet were treading air now. Air that belonged to the unending, bottomless, gaping abyss. I love you.


The laptop hums away merrily while you type line after line of code. It’s almost second nature to you now, you do it without thinking. To think only a year ago, you were a newbie, wet-behind-the ears, scared to death, not knowing a damn thing. You smile ruefully, thinking about those days, when there was not a care in the world, not a minute of silence or sorrow.

And yet, here you are today. In this very cubicle. Still at work at 10pm. Because leaving would mean taking your mind off work. That in turn would only mean one thing… Don’t go there, you admonish to yourself. But nothing can take your mind off the hollowness inside. A deep bottomless abyss, that knows no end. There is no escaping it and there’s no denying the fact that as of today, in this very moment, you’re terribly, terribly alone.

The thoughts come rushing, tumbling into your head as if flood gates were just opened and the reservoir that was splitting at the seams has had release. A turbulent one at that. And despite your instructions to yourself, there’s only so long you can hold off. You’ve already not thought about it all day which has to be some kind of achievement in itself. And with the thoughts comes the one question, the answer to which would probably put you out of this misery. Why?

The answers never come. All that comes is a feeling of fear, dread. Of a lifetime of pain and loneliness. Of a sense of incompleteness, of lacking, of inability. Impotent. Perfectly describes how you feel. You think of the number of times you’ve cried yourself to sleep. Cried in the shower, cried while driving to work, in the train, at the coffee shop, in the supermarket. You think of the number of times you’ve sat alone in your bedroom, with a blade in your hand.

And prayed for release.

For those of you who are worried, this isn’t about me. I was talking to a very good friend who is going through a very tough time and I could understand, having been through such exquisite pain myself. The memories came back and I had to put it to pen and paper.

My beautiful

It’s funny how you attach yourself to certain things beyond your own acceptance. Someone once told me not to attach myself to inanimate objects. I disagree. My precious car is something I love more than anything I have ever loved, more than it is possible to love an inanimate object.

It’s even more funny when you realize for the first time how protective you are of your car. Or even how much you hurt when you find out that your car was not treated the way you treat her. That people did something unpardonable when you least expected it of them. Something you would never even have dreamed of doing. It hurt. It physically hurt.

My beautiful. I’m sorry.