A break up.

Dear A,
I probably wouldn’t tell you how I feel. I wouldn’t let you in on a lot of my secrets. I won’t let you know when you’ve hurt me, and I wouldn’t allow you to feel sad. I won’t talk to you about what my dreams are. I wouldn’t share my nightmares with you either. I wouldn’t travel with you. I wouldn’t think of a future with you. I wouldn’t write about you. I wouldn’t read to you or buy you gifts. Most of all, I wouldn’t let you know how much I would love to do everything I’ve just mentioned. I’d box it up and seal it, push it to the farthest corner of the darkest part of my mind and then cover it with maroon sheets and place an orchid in a flower vase on top of the sheets, just to distract you. And outside, there will be a dragon for extra security. I can’t share what goes on, no, because if I share it means I actually feel them and that means I am vulnerable again. No, I think I like the box in the far away corner. It seems to be cosy up there, so I’ll let it be. As the dust settles on the sheets, and the maroon turns to a dull red, I’ll learn to never let anyone in. They will remain secrets until I run into that part of you which acually doesn’t need my permission to enter the dungeon because that person will know that the dragon doesn’t know how to breathe fire and that the secrets I have kept need to be unearthed. No, you don’t know me. You know that part of me which I’ve let you in on, for all these years. You think you know me and I’ll let it be like that. Each time we’ve spoken, I’ve let you assume and I’ve never corrected you because you seem happy to believe in what you believe. Happiness is my gift to you, even though ignorance isn’t something you’re fond of. I know you. I know you because you’re not guarded like I am. You’re free. You have the freedom I desire and I live it through you, and I just didn’t have the heart to let you in on my secrets. The secret which screams out loud about how I’m not who you think I am. I am proud of myself; I pretend very well, to have fooled you for this long, fools live happily and happiness is my gift to you. No, to think of it, I don’t have to pretend. I just keep quiet. Every time I see assumptions flood in, I drift into my cool, dark corner and allow you and everyone else to be happy. What good does an argument do, anyway? You’ll call me passive and indifferent but I just want you to feel like you know me, because you look so joyous when you feel triumphant..triumphant of having known me and been with me for twenty five long years. Foolish, at the same time, to have assumed that in those years I remained the same person, like a stagnant pool of water trapped in a crack underground; nowhere to escape and no reason to, either. I had reasons and I did use them, probably only too subtle for you to have noticed. I grew in depth and with it grew the darkness that shrouded my box of desires, and you, like a fool, felt you knew me. You were happy, like any fool would be, so I let it be because happiness has always been my gift to you. I have loved you, and you love me, or so you think. Is it me or the idea of me that you’re in love with? It isn’t your fault, I clouded the proof you needed to accept who I had become but what if you didn’t like me anymore? You probably wouldn’t, because I know you. You’re free and it’s your freedom that inspires me to end it with you. I can’t pretend or be quiet anymore. I’ve grown too deep to come out of it, and I can’t hold my breath any longer.
I wish you knew, but I wouldn’t let you in on my secrets anyway. I love you, because I know you and I know that you’ve tried your best. If you ever come across a tamed dragon, know that it’s I who has sent it for you, because I’ll miss you enough to risk it.

Love,
Z.

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The X-YZ of things.

I am bitter and not feeling very bright at the moment, so pardon the hatred. This is almost exclusively for a particular set of people in the world and that is, surprise surprise, the ex. It could be an ex boyfriend or a girlfriend or heck, even a friend. It is human tendency to do two of the things that I will write about here, post an ‘end’ to the said relationship.
First, you would want to claw back to the person (assuming that you re the one who was dumped, obviously)
Second, you would bad mouth that person or, listen to others talk bull about them.

Let’s go serially:
The clawing back phenomenon is very common. Obviously, they were an important part of your life and without them it feels empty and you want to fill their void only with their presence. Everything that you would have taken for granted suddenly becomes about them. I read a comic strip on Facebook a while back which went something like this-
Person A-“Yes! I am finally over her. I can live now”
Friend- “Great! Hey, want some water?”
A- “OMG SHE LOVED WATER :'(”

Yes I know It would look better with the comic strip, but I can not seem to find it. Blah.

Anyway, the point is, the feeling is normal. You would do everything in you power to get them to like you again. It is not your fault. It happened to me too when I was dumped, long long ago. I was heart-broken and sad and whatnot. At one point in time, I assumed that person to be someone without whom I would not be able to live, but look at me now; living and all. Ha!
But there are some of you who take this to a whole new level. Don’t play the sympathy card with their friend(s). Yes, the sad part is ‘you still love them’ despite the fact that they ‘mutilated’ your heart and stomped on it, repeatedly. Don’t do that. It isn’t healthy, not for your ego or for the friendship. Just because they took the call of ending the relationship does not mean they aren’t hurting. It does not mean they have a stone cold heart.

The usual protocol after a break up is to not talk for a couple of months, preferably years. Maintain it. Only because a person was your everynight-phone-companion, does not mean they will remain so for life. While dating, people say a lot of things
– I will always love you
– I will watch our grandchildren grow old with you
– Let’s go to switzerland
– Buy a dog
-Laser tag is a sad sport
Making lists is fun (…but I digress)

But don’t hold it against them when the break up does happen. I mean seriously, are you new to the dating world? People say things. It doesn’t mean they did not mean it while they said it! So don’t play the sympathy card. Don’t try to rope in all of their friends on to your side. Remember, a break up always has two people involved. The one to call it quits may have started the process earlier but they need their friends too.

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The second:
And if you DO end up playing the fool by pretending to be the one who is the victim, like they announced war on your tiny heart, grow up. The first rule to move on is accepting the fact that you need to. Pretending to be ‘fine’ and acting ‘cool’ is not helping anyone.
Also, learn to differentiate between those who really want your good and those who just want to laugh at you behind your back while you grieve. Let me tell you my story. Long back, when I broke up with this guy, I was in regular contact with one of his friends. After the break up, the guy had only sad, sad things to tell me about the said boy. He filled me in with snippets of false news that made me pity my ex. The friend told me all about his grades in school (they were low) and  spats with teachers (thee were many), popularity (hated by all class mates) and simultaneously, the friend kept praising himself (high grades, and I assumed he was a teacher’s pet and student of the year). At that age, the three criteria that were mentioned to me were important aspects of a student’s life, the fact that a boy once dated was flunking grades disturbed me. Two months later I came to know how the friend was really trying to make me fall for him. Every word that he uttered about the ex was a tweaked version of the truth, a lie actually.

^the moral there is don’t believe everything people have to say. Also, don’t go on spreading rumours and make the poor -ex an anomaly to the social structure. Respect the privacy. Understand the dynamics of the people. By telling everyone that you love them despite the horrendous way they treated you and describing how you JUST know they never loved you, makes them the bad person . What have they actually done? Broken up with you and not spoken? THAT is the crime you are holding them responsible for and therefore that makes them heartless? Then yes, maybe they’re guilty in YOUR court of law. I have done it myself too, when I was new to this world. But now, I have matured. And I hope you do too.

It is hard to let go.

Which sex would you choose?

To talk to about your feelings?
To talk about lizards?
To talk about China?
To discuss your boyfriend?

WHO would be your choice, and I am asking this as a girl to other girls. (boys could answer just for fun) Would you call a girlfriend or choose a boy over the so-called fairer sex (although I couldn’t agree less with this ‘name’)? I would choose my best friend, who is a girl. Then, I would choose someone who’s next to my bestie, and she too is, well, a she. And then, I’d look at a guy to discuss some other things.

I’ve been told that guys ae easier to talk to, less of a hassle and more straightforward, with lesser ego issues. So, maybe that is why most girls end up talking things out with boys, or keeping in touch with guys or even have more guy friends. I too have more male friends than female, but the girl-friends I do have are very dear to me. I keep in touch with them as much (and equally) as compared to the guys.

Something has been disturbing me and I cannot voice it out, ’cause I do not know it yet. As soon as I do, I”ll let you know. What bugs me is how someone, so integral to your life, can vanish one fine day. I mean, you know that person is out there, living breathing and talking to other people, but not with you. It isn’t like they are ignoring you, they reply to your texts and ask you what’s up, but you know that the conversations aren’t and may never be the way they were. Why? Because you see them talk and live, without making you a part of it, involuntarily, with no malice or spite. They just slowly eradicate you from their life and you leave, without protest, and that’s your fault and totally your call.
You leave with a hole in their lives, and that hole stays forever cause no one is replaceable.  They decide not to replace you and you thank god for that, but they find new space for new people and those new people start encroaching on your space.

You tell yourself, that it isn’t a competition and that your importance is important. But the question marks come into your mind, seeds of doubt germinate and you look at them in a way, with a view, that you never have before. Did you slip from being a friend to an aquaintance to just another face in the Facebook friend-list? When they like a picture by the newer people, you ask yourself; would they like yours? And then you see that they don’t and your heart breaks just a little bit more. You ask yourself, is this PMS and then you check your Tracker to see that it isn’t.

It is hard letting go, of friends more than anything and it is even harder to see yourself fade out of their life when there was no problem in the first place, except maybe, they found better interests or hobbies or work or worse, people. And it sucks when they are still on your priority list when you have slipped off of theirs. And sucks even harder when you see what or who you have slipped because of. It sucks the hardest when you know you slipped off to someone who they can flirt with, or talk random BS with. You know you’ve lost, and it wasn’t even a competition.

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Post Break-up Syndrome.

The world seems to be collapsing around you while you desperately try holding onto whatever you can lay your hands on- his favourite band, his favourite poem, the book he last dog-eared or the perfume you never really liked. You look around your room and spot his nail cutter on your dressing table or you look at an advertisement you had both laughed at, together, and then it happens- you feel a rush of tears stinging your eyes, your cheeks go warm and you repent your decision of ending things with him.
He wasn’t that bad after all, was he? All he wanted was for you to cut your hair or grow your nails. All you had complained of was him being an hour late sometimes and surely that can be worked out. All the differences and reasons for the ‘premature’ termination of your relationship begin to seem superfluous and frankly, childish. There is nothing a glass of wine and good conversation cannot sort out, is there? This is the Post Break-up Syndrome.  It is characterised by reckless dating, excessive drinking, excessive shopping, stalking your ex boyfriends, a high sugar diet, self-doubt, prolonged sleeping hours, regret, irritation, reading break-up quotations online, understanding song lyrics and most of all, the need to get back.

So, you call your best friend and ask her if the haste made waste, if the dog pooped early, if…okay, I am out of metaphors. Simply put, you ask her if you were wrong. She will not give you advice but hear you out while you figure out your own mess and while talking to her, and in turn talking to yourself, you hear the reasons out loud and you realise that the decision was in fact right. A difficult choice to live with, but a correct one indeed.

So how does one get over a significant other? You can delete his number, block him on facebook and hide the photographs. You can remove his physical presence from your life, you can pretend that he doesn’t exist and all of this will go on perfectly fine till that one day where you suddenly listen to a song you both danced to, or an old message in you inbox that got ignored while you were on a deleting spree or the news of him dating someone else reaches you. The world will be a perfectly rotating spheroid TILL THAT DAY, after which all his ticks and non-sensical habit will make sense. You will see that you’ve grown and have matured enough to accept the mistakes he had made 7 months back and you will ache to get him back but it is too late. He has moved on, probably as painstakingly as you have (or may be not) and he won the break-up game.

But that’s what popular belief says; that the one who dates first is the winner. I do not agree- I believe that the one who ends up happiest is the winner. Yes, there will be hiccups in getting over him (for god’s sake you loved him once upon a fairytale time ago) and you will question the choices you made. Yes, there might be a chance that ending it was a mistake, you probably should have waited a day or two more, maybe just maybe things would have turned around.

And then you will read something. Something so life-changing that you feel happy and light, like cotton. You’re a reader and he was not. You sing in the shower while he just, showered. You asked philosophical questions and answered them with candy-floss analogies while his dream interview is with Smith and Wesson. You looked at the stars, he saw the dark, dark sky. And then, you call your best friend again, to share your epiphany and she calmly makes you understand that two halves make a whole. That, while you focussed on the stars and he looked at their background, while you read all the time, he read the newspaper (and that’s the point where you make a face and disagree- newspaper is not reading duh!).
Then, once your BFF is done explaining to you why opposites attract, you say just a few sentences to her and she knows that you’ve won the argument-

I need a man who knows what poetry is, how beautifully one sentence flows into another. I need a man who carries a handkerchief with him, not to wipe off my tears but to clean the ketchup that I accidentally dropped on his shirt. I need a man who reads out Beethoven to me, instead of making me listen to his symphonies. I need a man who can make me lose an argument. I need a man who shuts me up by kissing me. I need a man who understands my fascination with House. MD. I need a man whose words seem like a song, whose voice makes me tingle. I don’t get that in him, sweetheart. I get a lot of other things, but not these. I can put in a handkerchief in his pocket and make him watch sitcoms but can I make him feel the beauty of Haiku? Can I make him stir his soul like a good book stirs mine? I am incapable, not him.

Till the time you reach an epiphany, the post break-up syndrome continues.

-All the best, I hope this helped. And if it did not, boo hoo, just start to not care and you’ll soon find another jerk who’ll also leave you 🙂

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