A little not over yet

I went scrolling down the list of names of facebook, because part of me knows your name will appear soon; however, part of me also knows that it is a bad idea. But when fifty one percent of me keep on scrolling down the list of names, the forty nine percent just could not stop me from what I was doing. And certainly as pain itself promised, I saw your name and it felt like some sort of pressurized force went down from the tip of my head to my whole body and ends at my toes, and it hurts.

And that surprises me, every time! It hurts! Every single time! After all this time, I just cannot understand how the impact of losing you could affect me up till now, more than a year now. I tried, first I avoided it, but it came often and it drove me to near insanity; then I let it run through me, I bared my fangs to all the unwanted feelings, and yes it hurts, a lot. What surprised me is that it still hurts the same way it did at the start, or rather the end, of it. Only progress is that I learned not to let it show. And it feels a little lonesome, but I did it anyway, hide them all away.

In a book I read there is this particular line I absolutely love and hate at the same time. This broken hearted girl who out of broken-heartedness on the verge of suicide, saved by a mystery “wizened” man asked about the hurt she is going through. And the answer was “sometimes never”. It was clear, so clear yet so vague at the same time. Is it even possible? That a single answer could mean something so opposite! But it does.

See, she was this characteristic portrayal of a classical absolute social failure, so called “geek”, you may picture her with glasses and all, perhaps a little plump that you would like any human to be who woe-be-all happen to fall in love with this characteristic absolutely sociable, handsome, charming, all-that-you-can-think-good-of guy but in reality is just another self-centered completely flirtatious person. Unfortunate girl if you ask me. And she was completely broken, lost all hope and so on.

“Sometimes never”; she is probably scarred for life, but she is going to get up, collect the pieces and build herself together again.

I do not know what makes it feel this way, and I know not what you have to make it feel this way: but it is such that when I was with you I feel like I don’t need anyone else in this world, and it felt good. So when you moved away, it felt empty and sad. And somehow I feel less, which is why I feel a little angry too. When I think about you, sometimes see you across the street, I felt small and inferior and that is not a very nice thing to feel about oneself. And I still have not learned how to feel otherwise.

18 February 2015
0115 hours

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