Moon
Took
An eternity
To fathom
Its feelings;
Yet failed to
Understand
Mine.
The cloudless, starry sky with the moon was there… to listen. But I did not want to speak. Because I was somewhere else. And those cold winds, traveling across the sea, cut through my body. I stood there, gazing at the oblivion. The sea. And it was quiet, pleasant and peaceful. I’d stopped the time. There was no one except the sea, the wind and me; broken, yet a little happy.
Remember when you are on the shore and a strong wave comes, snaking through your feet, almost tripping you, and tickling you, but you hold on and don’t let go, because you love that cold feeling and it is pleasant, but when the wave departs from the shore, all it leaves behind is grain of sand, stuck to your skin. Yeah. That.
People are like those waves. They come, make you feel happy. At times, they try to pull you down, and finally depart, leaving memories — grains.
Why am I telling you this? Because he was that. The wave. He, who took a lot from me and gave me nothing except tormenting memories. I would have died for him, but he just wanted to see me drown and struggle.
I am at that point where a violent death won’t cringe me because he was all about violent moments.
People leave each other scarred, so they can put themselves together. But I wasn’t lucky. He scarred me for eternity. And I know I can’t get over it. That’s the delicate thing about being broken, some people… they just can’t be put back together.
Night of Christmas, two years ago. I was at a bookshop going through thriller section. And he walked up to me, asking if he could buy me a book, like men asks you to buy a drink, except he knew I was a bibliophile.
That night, somewhere, I started believing in Santa, again. And he was the Santa of my life. The almost Santa.
He introduced me to Poker, a month later. I was not interested in betting or cards, but I did not want to seem uninterested in him, so I often went to casinos with him. He was good at it. Soon, I occupied the seat beside him. Sometimes we lost, but mostly we won.
And it was going good until he asked if I do drugs. The youngster in me wanted to experience drugs, and so I tried. And that was the night when we fucked. And we fucked every time we were high. It was passionate and lustful. The kind, every girl secretly fantasize about.
And soon it started becoming all about him. I was nothing but a toy to him. A mannequin in front of his parents. A possession he owned. His depression. His addiction. His lies and their justification. He would speak about his problems, and not be bothered about mine. And soon I was a stranger. When I looked in the mirror, I would not recognize me. There were dark circles. A sad smile. Soon, I was a stranger to myself.
Every moment spent with him was about how I was not enough, but I tried. I always tried being enough. He would cuss me in front of his friends. Tell me to be gone from his life and never return. And if I tried leaving, he would cry, and attempt suicide. How could he attempt suicide when I was the one suffering?
I was in love with him. And he was almost in love with me. Besides, we always brought each other down. And we never grew.
A month ago, I realized: we loved each other intensely, I won’t deny, but only when we were high; and hated each other when we were sober.
The love
Isn’t gone.
It’s still there,
It just became
Poison in my veins.
And, the pain
Lingers
Lets make our favourite and very own deepanshi famous by spreading this article everywhere, coz its beautiful and we know that!!! isn't she awesome?
Took
An eternity
To fathom
Its feelings;
Yet failed to
Understand
Mine.
The cloudless, starry sky with the moon was there… to listen. But I did not want to speak. Because I was somewhere else. And those cold winds, traveling across the sea, cut through my body. I stood there, gazing at the oblivion. The sea. And it was quiet, pleasant and peaceful. I’d stopped the time. There was no one except the sea, the wind and me; broken, yet a little happy.
Remember when you are on the shore and a strong wave comes, snaking through your feet, almost tripping you, and tickling you, but you hold on and don’t let go, because you love that cold feeling and it is pleasant, but when the wave departs from the shore, all it leaves behind is grain of sand, stuck to your skin. Yeah. That.
People are like those waves. They come, make you feel happy. At times, they try to pull you down, and finally depart, leaving memories — grains.
Why am I telling you this? Because he was that. The wave. He, who took a lot from me and gave me nothing except tormenting memories. I would have died for him, but he just wanted to see me drown and struggle.
I am at that point where a violent death won’t cringe me because he was all about violent moments.
People leave each other scarred, so they can put themselves together. But I wasn’t lucky. He scarred me for eternity. And I know I can’t get over it. That’s the delicate thing about being broken, some people… they just can’t be put back together.
Night of Christmas, two years ago. I was at a bookshop going through thriller section. And he walked up to me, asking if he could buy me a book, like men asks you to buy a drink, except he knew I was a bibliophile.
That night, somewhere, I started believing in Santa, again. And he was the Santa of my life. The almost Santa.
He introduced me to Poker, a month later. I was not interested in betting or cards, but I did not want to seem uninterested in him, so I often went to casinos with him. He was good at it. Soon, I occupied the seat beside him. Sometimes we lost, but mostly we won.
And it was going good until he asked if I do drugs. The youngster in me wanted to experience drugs, and so I tried. And that was the night when we fucked. And we fucked every time we were high. It was passionate and lustful. The kind, every girl secretly fantasize about.
And soon it started becoming all about him. I was nothing but a toy to him. A mannequin in front of his parents. A possession he owned. His depression. His addiction. His lies and their justification. He would speak about his problems, and not be bothered about mine. And soon I was a stranger. When I looked in the mirror, I would not recognize me. There were dark circles. A sad smile. Soon, I was a stranger to myself.
Every moment spent with him was about how I was not enough, but I tried. I always tried being enough. He would cuss me in front of his friends. Tell me to be gone from his life and never return. And if I tried leaving, he would cry, and attempt suicide. How could he attempt suicide when I was the one suffering?
I was in love with him. And he was almost in love with me. Besides, we always brought each other down. And we never grew.
A month ago, I realized: we loved each other intensely, I won’t deny, but only when we were high; and hated each other when we were sober.
The love
Isn’t gone.
It’s still there,
It just became
Poison in my veins.
And, the pain
Lingers
Lets make our favourite and very own deepanshi famous by spreading this article everywhere, coz its beautiful and we know that!!! isn't she awesome?
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