I've not been able to sleep for the last two hours. There's a strange restlessness within, reminding me bitterly of some nights in 2013. It's an awful beating within my ribcage- like a tremendous amount of air waiting to escape. I know what they are. They are the remnants of unresolved emotions. The left-overs of moving-ons. The crusts and crumbs which you leave to organically decay after you carefully sweep away the toxic garbage.
It's been 5 years. 5 years since I have had zero contact with someone whom I shared the most of my childhood with, someone who was once my best friend, someone who I eventually fell in love with, someone I had my first kiss with, someone I fell in and out of love with, but somehow, never stopped caring about.
I grew out of love, and watched that hurt him with a horrified heart. But I couldn't help it. He didn't understand me. I was too young to compromise. The timing was wrong. I was scared. He was naive. There are a million reasons, all of them validating my decision 5 years ago.
But that's my part of the story. I never knew his. I don't know how my memories have convoluted in his head. I don't know how he remembers me. I don't know if he does at all. For the most part of the last 5 years, he wasn't really on the surface of my memory. Things did not end well, and the Herculean amount of ego that made him up, helped both of us separate and grow away from each other. There was zero contact. There is zero contact. Zilch. I won't pretend it wasn't a huge discomfort. He did go out of his way at times to make me feel uncomfortable. For a presence that huge and continuous, the sudden stop was shocking. But I had my ego too. I wouldn't break down, I was better off. I soon did fall madly in love with someone else, had a tumultuous relationship, had my trust broken, and decided to part ways again. This separation had visibly broken me. I developed insomnia and anxiety issues, and I came to hate with a vengeance. It took me several years to move on from that relationship, if not that person.
However, coming back to Him. We've physically crossed paths several times in the last few years, considering we live literally not even 200 metres apart from each other. The silence, the ego, the walls have naturally required stronger efforts to sustain. But somehow I managed to do it. I possibly got the strength from his resilience, I knew how obstinate he was. I wouldn't be one to bend over either. He'd surprised me with his nonchalance far too many times for me to take any step for reconciliation. I figured I did not need any. Fuck that. He's living his life, I'm living mine. Plus, I didn't know what he thought about me. I wasn't getting humiliated, no way.
I wish I could tell you this story had a better ending. I wish I could tell you 5 years was enough to redeem the 9 years before that. There have been numerous moments I had wanted to reach out, this in itself is a frantic effort to calm myself down. And the fact that he is literally 200 metres away from me as I speak, helps this in no way. There isn't much to lose if I reach out, but would I be able to console my sentiments if I'm pushed back? I'm not sure I can nurse myself. I'll wait for a hint, let's see.
It's been 5 years. 5 years since I have had zero contact with someone whom I shared the most of my childhood with, someone who was once my best friend, someone who I eventually fell in love with, someone I had my first kiss with, someone I fell in and out of love with, but somehow, never stopped caring about.
I grew out of love, and watched that hurt him with a horrified heart. But I couldn't help it. He didn't understand me. I was too young to compromise. The timing was wrong. I was scared. He was naive. There are a million reasons, all of them validating my decision 5 years ago.
But that's my part of the story. I never knew his. I don't know how my memories have convoluted in his head. I don't know how he remembers me. I don't know if he does at all. For the most part of the last 5 years, he wasn't really on the surface of my memory. Things did not end well, and the Herculean amount of ego that made him up, helped both of us separate and grow away from each other. There was zero contact. There is zero contact. Zilch. I won't pretend it wasn't a huge discomfort. He did go out of his way at times to make me feel uncomfortable. For a presence that huge and continuous, the sudden stop was shocking. But I had my ego too. I wouldn't break down, I was better off. I soon did fall madly in love with someone else, had a tumultuous relationship, had my trust broken, and decided to part ways again. This separation had visibly broken me. I developed insomnia and anxiety issues, and I came to hate with a vengeance. It took me several years to move on from that relationship, if not that person.
However, coming back to Him. We've physically crossed paths several times in the last few years, considering we live literally not even 200 metres apart from each other. The silence, the ego, the walls have naturally required stronger efforts to sustain. But somehow I managed to do it. I possibly got the strength from his resilience, I knew how obstinate he was. I wouldn't be one to bend over either. He'd surprised me with his nonchalance far too many times for me to take any step for reconciliation. I figured I did not need any. Fuck that. He's living his life, I'm living mine. Plus, I didn't know what he thought about me. I wasn't getting humiliated, no way.
I wish I could tell you this story had a better ending. I wish I could tell you 5 years was enough to redeem the 9 years before that. There have been numerous moments I had wanted to reach out, this in itself is a frantic effort to calm myself down. And the fact that he is literally 200 metres away from me as I speak, helps this in no way. There isn't much to lose if I reach out, but would I be able to console my sentiments if I'm pushed back? I'm not sure I can nurse myself. I'll wait for a hint, let's see.
