“you wanted
some connection with him and retain your sense of aloofness from any romantic
entanglement. he is the centre to both ends of the spectrum”
Dear Friend,
I hope i
can tell you this story in a way that will do justice to its beauty. I wish, for
your sake, that you feel the way I did even though that’s the toughest part.
How do you know you are saying enough and doing enough and communicating enough
to people for them to feel the complexity of emotions that has been flowing
through your system? If only i could answer my questions the moment I ask
them....
This story
could just be a statistic in a pool of stories that are told. An agglomeration
of little fragments in time, that were long and short, but ephemeral all the
same. But today, as i write this letter, I am warm from the inside out.
Companionship
is a beautiful word and a powerful emotion, it could either make you or shatter
you and in most cases, you do not control what happens. This, that happened to
me was unlike anything that has ever happened before, because for the first
time in my life I let myself go, I let myself feel, I broke down my walls and
let myself live through it without creating a controlled environment. I don’t
have the heart to write about it as if this feeling is or was like something
surreal and like a fairytale, because it was not and it will never be. Brief
periods in time were hard, so hard, it was unbearable and it hurt in the gut so
bad, but just like everything else, the good parts overwhelmed this part. I
have never let the negative parts of my life cloud my judgements and make me
decide on things, and I will never do that, I do not deserve that negativity. I
met someone and suddenly everything broke loose. But unlike any other time,
this time, for the first time it was different. Because he is not a statistic
and with him, just talking to him about the random-est stuff felt like I was
being heard, being taken seriously although his maturity made me feel like I
had to be careful about what I say. It takes a lot of communication for me to
even let myself establish a connection because that’s how much I don’t want to
get hurt or did not want to get hurt and for so long I kept thinking that doing
this was the best for me. All my life I have been constantly trying to keep
myself safe, lay down rules to an extent where I stopped feeling anything,
experiencing anything because I did not want anything to go wrong, I did not
want to get distracted, I did not want to get hurt....
But with him,
I wanted to break the rules. Run after stupid ideas, try the worst ice cream
flavours, race him to get to the bus first or just walk 5 kms to get home, make
excuses at home that I never had, to escape the wrath of my parents, just to
have 5 more minutes of whatever this friendship was. God, just 5 more minutes.
And it
turned out that even though it hurt a little, it did not distract me. If
anything, it gave me the confidence to just let myself experience newer things.
I had no expectations and I wanted nothing, absolutely nothing apart from a
lasting friendship and companionship. Writing this, feels like walking on egg
shells, trying to ensure that my selfish desire of experiencing something does
not meddle with something that already is. I have never been here before, so it’s
hard for me to understand where to draw lines, but conversations are supposed
to be harmless right? Or maybe not. Conversations are the real trigger I believe.
Words could ruin you if you say too much, but why does this friendship make me
feel like words will never be enough to fully describe what it is, what it was.
I knew nothing was to be but he stood there
like the centre of both sides of spectrum and I fell for him. I expected nothing
and I wanted nothing, nothing more than to just convey my thoughts. That’s all,
that’s all that I ever wanted.
To me the
easiest way to understand someone is through their stories through things they
wish to tell us, not through the opinions of others and he had a very calming
way of choosing his words before saying anything, as if the words in this world
were limited and he had to make perfect use of every word so that he could do
justice to them. This calmness reflected in his speech. He had a very quiet way
of talking, something close to a whisper but audible enough to comprehend, crisp
like the crumbling of dry leaves and listening to everything he had to say
could be a beautiful hobby too you know?
I had to
write something about everything that happened to me because there seems to be
no other outlet. Maybe this is too mushy, too high school, too cheesy and I might
sound like a teenage girl writing it, but I don’t have any regrets. I never
will.
Love always,
Urja