On a bright Sunday, he found himself playing in a green field. A very unrecognizable place but people around him were his friends. As time passed, he saw dark clouds appear and the day started to become gloomy. He started running as it started to drizzle. For some reason, he wanted to scream. But suddenly he felt a big lump in his throat and his mouth was filled with ice.
Weird. He put his fingers inside his mouth and tried emptying his mouth. But the more he dug, the more difficult to get it out. He was suffocating. He was feeling helpless. It’s almost as if he had lost the ability to speak. He was paralyzed, unable to spell anything. He stopped running and began freaking out. The fear began to fill his lungs and he let out a big clueless shake of the head.
Then he was awake. It was all a dream. But Why such a dream out of nowhere?
He sat and pondered with everything he could imagine of. He analyzed the possible causes. Then he could see the clues. It was coming out of his hidden anger. The inner outrage he hasn’t been able to throw at anybody. Because he just kept swallowing all the pain.
He was badly affected by a recent trauma. After it was all over between them.
Such a huge void. Nothing filled in except sorrow and self-loathe. He tried to smile but there was no soul to it. Almost a dead smile. Like a drawing on his face. What happened? Everything was perfect. How did everything collapse even after his strong pull to keep the entropy low?
Is there an escape from this feeling? Am I obligated to feel like shit?
His thoughts roamed around the time he met her. The wind smelled of jasmine flowers, carrying the thoughts of the beginning of something. The road was a bed of roses and each step he took was a blessing. She sang the poems that gave birth to feelings undiscovered, hidden in him. They spoke of discrete things discreetly. Their stories always swayed in the cold feet of uncertainty. His hopes too. For he never knew he had this side. Each message was a firefly lighting his empty dark heart, and each touch sparked a pleasant explosion.
An Ocean that would never dry. The warmth of her care was from distant stars. Can something be better than this feeling he thought? His existence made sense. It was just right. The inner battles disappeared and everything seemed to be in order. The glories which his demons carried were finally ended. His imaginations only stretched further into future when he was with her. Forever was built around her. It’s not easy. They had worked on a prototype even. Our kids would wear glasses too they’d say.
On the rocks of late night fights, they had wept. In the garden brimming with eternal sunshine, they had laughed. And when she asked him how all of this is going to work, he was simply stupefied.
She was questioning the longevity and manner of how he and she would work. As if, there is a framework for all the pieces to fall in places that he should be aware of and convey it to her. Well, to be honest, they were yet to figure out what it was. To pave the way for future of them, they hadn’t fully lived the present. While she clung on to defining what was it between them, He silently lived a dream all along. And yet, like all dreams, this ended too.
Abruptly, like a protagonist meets with an accident and dies in the middle of the book. He had feared it all along. They both were eternal victims of Murphy’s Law and the bad did happen.
Now he sat with a journal that is getting old and making less sense with each day. He could never explain how painful it is and how badly he is hurt because it would not make sense to anybody. The measure of emotional pain does not have a scale. He tried to resort philosophy and spiritualism. He couldn’t completely drown himself in, in either of those. He clearly knew the path ahead will be bleak. It was bleak.
In these times of perplexity, there was very little room to find the answers. Nothing made sense. But no matter how hard he tried to be normal, it’d take a single passing of past to make every effort go in vain. With all that is left, he made a prayer.
That – “let both of us move on from here with grace. Let courage be his and merry be hers. Let there be no paths which may lead to us meeting again. Let there be no question raised on the meaning of short-term relationships. Let each other find (im) perfections that our relationship lacked. Let there be no effort made to fix what’s broken. Let there be a conclusion to all the sorrow caused by two flawed souls on a suicide mission. Let at least one of us be struck with amnesia and by all egotistic intentions, let it be me”.
He now just waits for his prayers to be answered.