The confession
“I want you, with a hint of uncertainty. I
need you, with a hint of ingratitude. I
love you, with a hint of sarcasm.” I said the words, watched her face change
and then turned around and walked away- Away from her life, in search of new
beginnings. I hadn’t decided where I was going to go, but I wouldn’t stay here,
it was unbecoming of me. I would not stay behind to be ridiculed, or unloved.
It was never my mistake to have fallen in love, it was tragic loss: a loss of
dignity, a loss of pride, I had fallen from my high horse, to become a
quivering mass of thoughtless being under someone else’s feet. But that was so
much less than my potential, so much more than I ever thought would become of
me. I did not want to feel that magnetic draw, how I wanted to turn around and
gaze into those hypnotic eyes.
I had met that man she loved. The way she had
held his hand and had introduced me, it had caused the pit of my stomach to
turn and coil. We had sworn to be friends for life, undying pact, and fast
friends. She had always kept her hair long, and I loved it on her. The day I
met him, was the first time I had ever seen her with her hair so short, just
above her shoulder. I had wanted to hold her and shake her, where was her
beautiful hair. She had laughed at almost everything he said, she had teased
him in a way I thought was reserved only for me. She had made sure that I spoke
to him, she had made sure that he loved me, the way that she always has. I had
smiled at her happiness, but had felt a part of me die. Things would never be
the same.
I wanted her but I was so uncertain about the
way I wanted her, uncertain about the way I should feel to want her, uncertain
about if I deserve to want her. I needed her, for so many things, I needed her
appreciation, I needed her comforting, I needed her to care about me, but I’m
never going to be fully grateful for what she does for me. I loved her, but
that love was tainted, with sarcasm from my ego, ever unwilling to fall in
love. She needed to know that. She had to know that, there was no way, I could
ever move forward without telling her this. I didn’t know what effect it had on
her, or how much she hated me for those words. I had seen her face change into
that of total confusion, the happiness she felt when she saw me completely
shattered and transformed into utter bewilderment. It was necessary; goodbyes
had to be said with the right words. In a few days, hours, minutes, seconds,
there will be a mangala sutra around her neck, if I had not said these words, I
would have stood there and watched. Watched it happen, and felt my heart break.
It was my way of life that kept me from saying these words, it was my qualms
that kept me from acknowledging these words, but now I said it to her, like a
punishment for not feeling the same about me.
I walked away, slowly dreading every step I
took away from her. Her, with her wide innocent eyes; her, with her short
cropped hair; her, who was as different but exactly the same as I was. Our
shadows would never watch the moon dancing over them again. Things would never
be the same.
The confusion
“I want you, with a hint of
uncertainty. I need you, with a hint of ingratitude. I love you, with a hint of sarcasm.” He said
the words, I felt my jaw drop and then he turned around and walked away- Away
from me, was this a joke. I hadn’t decided how I was supposed to process this,
but I wouldn’t understand it, it was unassuming of me. I would not be left
behind to be fooled or misguided. It had never been my mistake to fall in love
with him, it had been a near loss: a loss of friendship, a loss of sound mind.
I had hidden what I felt for him, to become a quivering mass of nothing crying
myself to sleep under a blanket, every
night for comfort. That was so much less than my potential, so much more than I
ever thought I could think of someone.
But I did not feel that magnetic draw anymore, how I wanted to turn to the
man that I loved now for comfort.
He had met that man I
loved. I had held his hand when I introduced him to my friend. I had told him
that I had once loved this friend, it had driven a fit of jealousy and caused
him so much discomfort. But we had sworn to be friends for life, undying pact,
and fast friends. He had eyed my long hair, he had always teased me about it's
length, I thought that he would rather like the short hair. The day he met my
love, was the time I had totally confirmed that I could never have loved my
friend as much as I loved my future husband. I could have at one time, I had
wanted to hold him and shake him, where was he then. He had smiled at my happiness, but I had never
guessed that there was a part of him that felt for me. Things would never be
the same.
It turns out he had wanted
me but he was so uncertain about the way he wanted me. He had needed me, for so
many things, I had always known this, but he had never been fully grateful for
what I did for him. He had loved me, but that love had been tainted, with
sarcasm because I had fallen in love with someone else. He needed to know that I had loved him once.
He had to know that, there was once a time when there was no way, I could ever
move forward without telling him how I felt. I didn’t know what difference it
would make, or how much more it would make him hate me. I had entered a state
of total confusion, the happiness I felt when I saw him completely shattered.
He had his chance, but he had vowed himself out of love. Maybe this was
necessary; goodbyes had to be said with the right words. In a few days, hours,
minutes, seconds, there will be a mangala sutra around my neck, if he had not
said these words, he would have stood there and watched. Watched it happen, and
I wouldn’t have lost my friend. It was his way of life that kept me from saying
these same words to him, it was my qualms that kept me from acknowledging his
feelings then, but now he said it to me, like a punishment for not telling him
earlier.
I watched him walk away,
realising anything I say would only hurt him more. Him, with his ever ready
smile; him, with his stud on his left ear; him, who was as different but
exactly the same as I was. Our shadows would never watch the moon dancing over
them again. Things would never be the same.
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