Rehab

 

Image Courtesy: Shubhi Raj

I have not mentioned it before. But now, I see it right in front of me. How I have changed as a person, A person I did not want to be. It wasn’t so when you were around. You kept me at bay, much like a stone ice-cream sculptor beats the ice cream down, to make it soft. And now everything is no-holds barred. To be frank, I never thought I’d be someone so selfish. I remember when you’d put your finger on my lips, every time I would show a propensity to inflict harm on someone else. Its just not right, how I see myself these days. Conversation does not find itself of any significance these days. On the contrary, I look for avenues to vent out my sordid frustration. Lately, dates don’t find relevance unless I see you in “them”. And that’s the sad part. It has been easier for you to lean on someone else, while it has not been close to “closure” for me and I blame it all on myself. Closure is not given, it is experienced. Sadly, I’ve ensured I’ve not given other women any closure as well. You pretty much don’t remember me as someone who would be extremely popular, but here I am breaking strides and doing the same things you did to me, And this is not me emoting it out. It’s just me being a mean bastard.

But never have I ever had a grudge on you for slowly drifting away. And as a person who NEEDS to move on, grudges don’t bode well. Life has much more to offer. And that is why I’ve turned into a traveler. A traveler who can appreciate beauty, maybe not as gorgeous as you were but a different kind of beauty. Every time I look into a deep gorge, it reminds me of how simple, complex and attributive, the creation can be. Who else would talk to me, the way you did. Who else would love me the way you did. Who else would care for me, the way you did. For me to be less selfish and more caring, I need someone who loves me as much as you did. And alas! that is not possible. I might settle for someone who could care for me more, but not someone who could like me temporarily. I’m sure you never thought I’d end up being judgmental. And here is a post-truth manifestation of of how things take a toll on others. And while one of us is better off, the same cannot be said about the other person, ’emotionally’.

Every time I am at a bistro, munching on fish and chips with a chalice of red wine, sitting opposite to someone who for some reason, despite being opposite to a blue whale sized dinosaur, enjoys the conversation I have to offer, yet I don’t enjoy theirs. Expectations are on the highest level. The same woman, the same ‘type’ of woman, is no where to be found because I am no more the ‘same’. Much like you’ve changed, I’ve changed into something that people cannot identify unless they spend quantum time with me, which i forbid out-rightly. Smoking some green roasted buds has never felt better, especially these days when you are always on my mind. No ill will, no ill thoughts, only nostalgia, only reminders of what we were, who we were and who we are now. I’m inundated with ‘Olivias’ all around me. And while Olivia is taken, but a look like her’s can be found from time to time.

No I’m not trying to steal, no love away from no one man. Not that I can. The Navy stands between us. Or maybe its more. Either ways, if destiny had to be destined my way, it wouldn’t have been a destiny keeping us apart. And I know it freaks the hell out of you, every time I post something about you. But you know why i do it. And you wouldn’t mind, because you know it cures me. It heals me. It brings back a teeny weeny bit of humanity in me. When these blogs weren’t there, you were. And every day, when we went back to our homes together,  I loved it when you’d ask me to ping you when I’d  reach home ahead of you knowing I’d reach first. It pains me to accept I haven’t succeeded in feeling what you used to make me feel. I’ve tried 6 times already, it doesn’t end up that way. Every time someone says “I love you” I keep my mouth shut, because I know I’d never mean it unless she meant as much to me.

While I’m pondering about possibilities, I leave my doors closed. And if Olivia does turn up at my door, I’d have to say I’d let her in. but she’d never be Olivia. She’d always be “something like Olivia’.

 

 

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