that night.
I was trying to hold my breath, hoping it would pass, but it didn’t.
Can you hear the echoes of my screams? Though they were noiseless, weren’t my eyes doing enough shouting to explain all the agony I was going through? We often think that people are our homes. For me, this concept of making a home within people felt exciting and so deep, until it ruined me. The walls of my so-beloved house just shattered. They crumbled right in front of me, and I could do nothing. My eyes didn’t shed a single tear. What I heard were the shattering sounds, like those of glass, but the difference was that this time, those sounds were of my dreams — the dreams I envisioned with you, a lifetime I thought I’d spend with you. And these hands of mine were not able to stop those walls from crumbling.
I felt so hopeless and so out of breath. There was only one thought in my mind: that you would come and save me. Save this house of mine, and save my body that was going through the cruel fate of destiny.
They say, “Don’t make someone your sole purpose.” Were they right or wrong? I have no understanding of that. But what I do understand is this: when you touch another soul so closely, forget all the tactics and games you were once a master of.
Even now, when I’m trying to write what I felt that night, no words could ever explain my experience. But what I would like to say is that it was heartless and so damn full of torture for my fragile heart.
The next day, I woke up from a very bad dream. I don’t remember it now, but my body is still aware of the feelings it went through during those few weeks. Each day, I hoped that my home would mysteriously be built again, but with each passing day, that hope was slowly washing down the drain.
And so, that question arose: Why do we make one person our home?
Was it my fault that, from the very start, I was deprived of all the love that I should have received and felt? All these people were so selfish, always thinking about what was best for them. And now, when I look back and see all the scars that were left by these so-called people, I see them so clearly. Back then, I was naive and so unaware of what this world was capable of.
But now I knew, didn’t I?
This time was supposed to be different.
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This was the time when this person should have been sent by God, because didn’t I give enough? Weren’t those lessons and scars enough for my heart? But now, the scar is so deep that, at one glance, you can’t even see it. I have to be so naked and vulnerable for that one person to actually touch those scars and feel them.
From the tip of my head, where he used to give me feather-like touches with his hand, to my toes, every part of my body felt so seen in his embrace. And now, when those memories threaten to come back, my breath pauses, the world blurs, and I’m back at that exact place from which I’m running.
Because if I stop running, these memories will take hold of me. They will kill me.
Even now, each day, I am dying, and my only cure is you — your hug and your touch.
But you know, all these feelings and this longing gather themselves at one exact point, rather, one question:
Will you ever cross heavens and oceans for the person you didn’t even care about? No.
Those eyes lied.
THOSE FUCKING EYES LIED, AND I COULDN’T DO SHIT ABOUT IT.
but,
I could never even imagine myself despising you, because my heart knows, even after everything, that it is still incapable of hating you.
with love only.
yours
doodhiya baddie💗
