On Monday morning, I woke up with a blank face. I moved my blanket and sat on my bed. My head was feeling heavy. I tried getting out of my bed, but the cold floor suddenly started to feel very uncomfortable beneath my feet. I still forced myself out of bed. It was raining heavily. Even though I love the rain, it couldn’t bring any emotions to me.
When I walked into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, I moved the curtains away from the window. I always thought that rain and tea go together. However, neither could I enjoy my tea, nor the rain. Both of these things felt flavourless, my life felt flavourless and tasteless.
I walked back to my bed with the cup of tea in my hand. I looked at my table to see it be a mess. That’s not how it usually is. There were pieces of paper lying around and each piece had something written on it. That’s how my heart felt like too – scribbled and shattered. My phone had the usual ‘good morning’ texts, but there was nothing interesting about the morning.
I didn’t feel like getting out of bed. I didn’t want to see people, either. I didn’t want to answer their questions, I just wanted to be where I was. I decided to lie down for a while, but could still sense the heaviness in my head. The pillow smelled of him and I hugged it tightly to myself. As I did, tears rolled down my cheeks. I started thinking about every thing from the time I met him. I recalled how he made me believe in ‘happily ever afters’ and how he used to tell me, “You’re weird. My weird,” and how he’d make fun of how my hair looked in the morning. I remembered everything.
Even when I know that all these moments are just memories now and I can never have all of that again, it still kills me inside. I got up from my bed again, it was still raining so I decided to go for a walk. I was still in my home clothes when I took an umbrella and went for a walk. I was again reminded of him and the time we’d hold hands and walk in the rain. Today the street felt lonely, or maybe I was.
When I came back home, I returned to my bed again. I looked at the cup of tea that was not even half empty. How could I miss my tea? Why could I not listen to the rain anymore? What happened to me? Why did this end? Why did we end? I really couldn’t find the answer to my questions. Did the hurt person that I was before I met him, hurt him?
All that he said before he left was that he was hurt and he couldn’t handle that for now. He told me that he loves me, but can’t have me back in his life. He told me that I was already dead inside and with me, he was dying too. He told me he was sorry for not being able to bring me back to life. But even though I was dead inside, being with him brought me some life.
I didn’t stop him. I had to let him go. I could see the hurt in his eyes. I realised that if we stay together, he will become miserable. I loved him enough to let him go. I hope he’ll be happy.
My life has been this way since a while. The only time I saw a little hope, was when he came. How long can I hurt the people I love like this? I hurt people, I leave scars. Each day, I die. I don’t want to kill someone else with me. I’d rather die alone.