Parting. Emptiness. And hence the post.

When I found her I was overjoyed. Or rather she found me. Most of the time it happened that way. she was the active one, doing things, starting chats, taking decisions, defining boundaries. But, at times she always listened me. Always followed my decision quietly. Let's go the beach, we should cease talking right from now, lets part. I was the one who left her. We parted at my insistence. Shame on me ! (wat may be the reason behind the screen for taking such a rude, such a hard, such a cruel decision, might be she was knowing or might not be).

You know partings are not always the same. Some people fall into landscape slowly but surely. Sadness fills you up and yet you know you won't raise your voice and call them back. And they will at last blur against the horizon. Some disappear suddenly. Without a moment's notice. As if they had gone over a cliff. And on some a curtain falls upon from the sky. The bare outlines can still be seen, but everything else gets swallowed up in blackness - of anger and hate. Even nearness doesn't make any difference. They get lost to you. These partings are endurable. But there is one more that is not - when you clutch the hem of their shirts refusing to let them go and they drag you along with them over a cliff. You part while you are falling. Before crashing into the ground. Before going to pieces. But I didn't go to pieces when we parted. I should have but I didn't. Let me break into fragments. Have you ever felt like that ? I felt like that. Wanted to cut my heart out it pained so much. All I wanted was emptiness, a moment's calm. Wanted to clutch it in my hands and crush it, stop it for a moment. Let me be. Then I took the pill - the key to help me keep my pieces together, preserve myself. I opened the room full of lampblack and rolled into it. The pill of cynicism.

But it was all her fault. She had taught me every little thing but she hadn't taught me how to go to pieces. How to accept it, let it happen. She never went to pieces. she was damn sure of herself. Of me. His (Mine) love is beautiful, she said. It has to be beautiful, that's when it is true. She had more than 100% faith on me. But me. A Shameless creature ! I know it's a cliche, but it's important to remember this cliche. That's why it has been repeated so many times, become a cliche. Wait and love will come to you. But you have to know what you want, recognize her when she comes. She made me feel that was all. I had just got to recognize her when she came, and everything would fall in place. There was nothing else. A closed world. Just her and me. Two tiny drops in a closed jar, waiting to become one. It happened that way. There was no other world, of complexities, of pain, of helpless drops that were more like puppets. Whom the finger of fate, the boneless wrist of time could flick around as they pleased. Send them somewhere else or leave them to dry. So I couldn't accept it when they played around with us. I wanted to kill myself. Not my body, but the soul. I wanted to smother my heart in the black flakes. Stop the Pain. Replace it with emptiness. And believe me there is emptiness all around. To be in home after a very hectic schedule and work pressure almost for 02 months on a regular basis, I thought would be quite good stay at home. But then memories surrounds me in the emptiness. And hence the post !