I probably shouldn’t address you that way. But I can’t possibly think of another name for you right now.
I’m in the middle of a million things. I do have a million things to do. But I can’t. Not right now. I HAD to write this. I should have written this letter, a long time ago. But words don’t come to me easily. I’m no writer! Certainly not a journalist. No, I don’t speak in convoluted terms and I would never do that to baffle any listener, not even to your sister.
What do I tell you, that you don’t already know? That I painfully think about you all the time? That you are the last thing I think about every night, before I fall asleep, and the first thought that comes to my mind as soon as I wake up. I think about you when I’m working, when I’m at the movies, when I’m talking to my friends, when I study, when I prepare for interviews, when I wait for the interview to begin, and as soon as the interviews end. My eyes well up every time I think about you. I cringe on the inside when someone mentions your name. I google you perpetually (found videos which I’m going to forget that I ever saw). Found pictures that never should have existed, found stuff which you never should have done. In spite of all that, I fervently save them all. I love looking up on the internet for any news about your movie, which is incidentally getting released very soon. I’m so happy about that. I never thought I will be, but I am. So much of hard work went into it, no?
It’s been 2 months and 21 days since I last spoke to you. It was over the phone. You were shocked, a little angry and mainly uncomfortable with the fact that I was in love with you. We spoke for 42 minutes. Actually longer than that, because you were swearing and I was hanging up, a lot! The next day, when I was at work, I got a text from you. The familiar thrill when I see that you had called or sent a text. I would give anything in the world to have that back. You asked if you could leave, I said ‘yes’ and you thanked me and left. I was fine then. For a minute, at least. Then the familiar feeling washed over me. I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating. That was the first time I felt real physical pain in my chest. I remember it, because I wrote it down right away. I also told myself that it will be okay. But somewhere deep down, I knew it won’t be. It wasn’t the usual fight where we say good bye and be back again. I was in love and you knew it, and it meant you’re not coming back. I came back home sick. I thought fevers are caused by viruses and bacteria, not by fights with your boyfriend! Oh wait, you weren’t and you’ll never be. The boyfriend, I mean. I lost count of the numerous times I was down with fever, every time we broke up or had a fight! Beats me!
Yes, you have tried to contact me after that, but I couldn’t go through that again. I can’t possibly go through the worst day of my life again. I’m being rational. I’m listening to mom and my two best friends. But there has been a huge communication gap between my heart and the brain. The heart has absolutely no idea about the decisions I have made. That I’m moving on. I really am. The stupid heart yearns for you. Only you. Nothing can make ‘it’ happy. Not a new job. A new apartment. New friends. Nope It refuses to accept that I will have to live each day knowing that I can never have you. Never. It’s a heavy feeling. The heart wants it all back. I want you back. Just the way you were. Just the way how things were.
The way you used to look at me. The way I always wanted to sit next to you, closer to you, grab your hand, or hug you, cry, kiss and love. I actually liked leaving working early or taking days off altogether to see you. The first day I left early from work was because I had something in my eye, and boy am I glad that happened. You made me come over to your place, and we went to the beach after that. It was one of the very few innocent dates we had. I liked that. The movies too. More than anything, I loved coming over to your place. The familiar smell. The happy feeling that, “I’m here with him right now and that’s all matters”. But I also started to hate it. Coming there meant, I had to leave sometime. I hated your car, because I had to get out of it sometime. Nothing was forever. I wanted to mother you, take care of you, love you like no one ever would. I always wanted to be near you. Very close. So close. I hated distance. I hated it when you’ll leave me for a few minutes to get your car. I hated separation. I hated when you’ll let go of my hand. Hated it when you’ll drop me off. Hated hanging up after talking to you over the phone. I hated the fact that I was almost always shy around you, in a fight/flight mode. But I liked holding your hand when we took that long walk in the forest, when it had just rained. I liked sitting with you in the dark. I liked listening to you talk. Liked listening to your heart beat. Liked it when you smiled. Your large nose. Your greying hair. The lips. More than anything I loved your big heart.
But my world changed when we became one. Or at least in my mind we were one. Your pain became mine as you let me witness your world. You let me take a walk in your shoes. I cried when you felt pain. I smiled when you were happy. When I started having your dreams, when your break-up became mine, that’s when I knew it. This was it. Love. Not the happy, chirpy, romantic love, but the sad, pathetic, forever unhappy love. I was hurting. A little too much. I should have left. I tried. God, I tried so hard. I failed. I stayed and fell into a deep pit. I’ve been there ever since. Never moving. Not even a millimeter. I think I got used to being in love with you, in a sadomasochistic way. I’m used to the tears flowing during work. I try not to sob too hard, for the fear of waking up my mother, during the nights. I hate the tear marks on my glasses, the pillow, my clothes and the numerous tissues I have used up in the past year. I stop autos a little away from home. Walk the streets crying, because I don’t have a place to cry my heart out. Okay now, don’t worry. I’ve done that only once. I don’t do that anymore. Not on the streets. I wait for my folks to get to sleep to do that, like right now.
What am I sad about? That I’ve been a victim of unrequited love? That even though I love you with every beat of my heart, you don’t love me back. You have never loved me. And you never will. I don’t hate you for that. I’m just sad. I feel unlucky most of the times that I couldn’t be the person YOU wanted. The fact that we were never meant to be, and that we are so imperfectly perfect for each other, yet we can’t be together. We don’t have happiness destined for us. You are my unspeakable secret, unreachable dream and an unforgettable love. I think I will have to live with that. Hey, it’s my problem right? I’ll deal with it. I was just your ‘friend’, your ‘emo crutch’, your ‘midnight friend to make calls and cry about your girlfriend’, ‘the best friend you can always count on’, ‘the girl who’ll comply to your animal instincts’, your ‘platonic friend that you don’t mind having an affair with’, because you love me as a person and you are attracted to me. Not just to my body, but mind and soul? (Well, you said it).
Everyone warned me about the pain that will follow and that it’s not worth it. But you know what? I will treasure every moment I spent with you. They are so so so special. No one would ever understand. Not even me! I don’t miss you. I never do. It’s something more. Something toxic. But I’ve started to like it.
There will come a day, when I will stop looking for your face in a crowd. The incessant reading up of saved text messages and the internet stalking will stop. I will probably tear up the written text messages, which I safeguard and carry with me all the time. Throw away the movie ticket I carry around, the one we went to for the first time. It was our very first date, when you were in a relationship with another girl. A very serious one, it was. I think I might actually throw away the flower you gave me. The one which grew at your place and is now safely resting between the pages of my most favourite book. But I’m afraid I wouldn’t stop loving you. I really am scared. I’m terrified. I need you. I love you.