25 Oct When you knock..

I sit here in my room, surrounded by my dark thoughts and emptiness. I feel I have nothing to hold on to anymore. My mind drifts elsewhere..to a different time. Where he is perfect, well as perfect as a slightly chipped cup can be. 
We are all like chipped cups. Some more and some less than others. Nobody is a perfect cup. 
Well My chipped cup has a heart of gold and he smiles a lot. I have never found someone who is as easy to be with, as him.

Suddenly, he is gone. It feels like death of a loved one. He is not around anymore to give me hugs, hold my hand, ask me how my day was or make me laugh till my sides ache. He is not around anymore for me to find my calm by just looking at his face, to steal food from his plate or slyly slip tomatoes on his plate and then watch him look at me with mock anger and a smile lifting at the corners. He made everything seem so easy and beautiful. Even arguing was easy, easy to have and even easier to resolve.
How do I explain the feeling where I mourn for someone who is gone but the grief makes me feel like I am the one dying?
“I am not in love with you…anymore.” That is all it takes?

His silence, his love, his voice, his pictures, his songs haunt me. I was heartbroken and shattered more than I could let myself be angry. I want to be angry. I had to do something about it because I couldn’t live like that anymore. Wondering if I could have changed anything, if I was responsible for whatever is happening to me. I couldn’t drive myself any closer to the brink of absolute insanity.
I decide to confront my fate. I knock at the door and a myriad of emotional convulsions wash over me. No..No! All my insides screamed, begging me to stop. I realized I am not ready for this, I turn and flee. The door opens and I know this is how it’s going to end.
I stood paralyzed in the driveway of my own house.
He comes out and apologizes. He hurls abuses at himself. Whatever I wanted to say to him, he had the worst version of it rehearsed, ready and rolling off of his tongue like butter on a hot pan.
And just like that, he robbed me off my right to be angry along with my love for him.
Why did I stand there, numb? What was I hoping for? How could he have pulled that off? Was he going to let me speak my mind and give me the closure I need or did I let him get away with manipulating me into believing that he was a victim of his own circumstances? 

We will never know…

However, What I did learn from this will always stay with me. 
You can be lucky enough to find someone to whom you can bare your soul to. It doesn’t mean that you have to. Sometimes things can be so perfect…like a piece of paper with the prettiest handwriting…just before finding its way into the fireplace only to go up in smoke. We often find ourselves at this crucial point. We find something truly beautiful but by the time we are done exploring its beauty we realize how broken it is, we toss it away…for someone else to find it.
Finders Keepers, Losers Weepers..we say.

Whose loss are we talking about? What do we not learn from this pattern? 
What would you have done differently had you known it was going to be the last time? Hold them longer, kiss them harder or never let them go in the first place? We romanticize unrequited love as if it is the last few drops of nectar we can get our hands on. What about the love we have and promise to cherish? Yet we fail when it comes to keeping those promises? 
Will we ever be the same?
When you knock…If you ever come knocking on my door will you hold my hand the same way?
Or will you watch me from a distance..
Slipping away into the abyss, shackled firmly to the clutches of loneliness and heartbreak?
Remorse washing over you while you watch me drown…helpless…powerless…speechless.
Finally silenced…forever?