I swear people laugh at me when I say that I still miss him. They don’t believe me at all and when they do, they fire vitriolic shots at me like my boss in his husky voice remarked he’s stuck to your mind like moss that grows on the old, abandoned and haunted mansions. He waved his hands like he was drawing mansion in the air. It struck me twofold; he compared him with moss. What! With moss and me with an old, abandoned and haunted mansion. Humph! What the heck!
That’s why I usually refrain from discussing him with anyone. He has become that sacred book with brownish pages that I fear to open lest the pages wither with touch. But that day, when I unintentionally uttered my feelings in front of my boss, I was in a pretty sour mood. Not that I was PMSing or something but I had not been able to jot down a single, likeable literary line ever since we had parted. And I got panicked because I was almost getting over him. I was partying hard, socializing like a crazy but the quality of my fictional work had been terribly declined and nobody expect me knew that my imagination thrived on the pain that he used to inflict on me in generous doses.
I got back home. I was pensive because the darkness had been falling around and I wasn’t feeling a bit of pain, the past wasn’t whirling in my eyes. I wasn’t missing him in the real sense. He was just a habit, an addiction and I wanted to take a drag of him. Long, deep and satisfying drag. I turned on my computer and browse through all the forums that we used to frequent. He seemed to have been disappeared in the dark hole. I grabbed my jacket, put on sneakers and the thinking cap – oh literally it had ‘thinking cap’ written across it – and went out to catch some fresh evening air.
It was the good old Friedrich Nietzsche who said, all great thoughts are conceived by walking. So I set on an uneven path in the direction leading towards the woods and the lake. The air was heavy, perhaps it was not but I was trying to believe that it was for I wanted to feel down and depressed. I began thinking and the big, pale moon hung like a tablet in the clear sky, sailed along with me. I thought of many chilly December evenings when I would invariably catch the sight of an Orion in the northern skies and my lips would broke into big, gratifying smile. Then I’d think of him, our conversations and our similarities that would always outweigh the differences we had had. I am always at a loss for words when it comes to describing him. Physically he was alright and quiet an attractive with strong built; neither tall as a pine nor short as a midget. It wasn’t the outer core; it was his inner self – the person – that I fail to describe. He remained an unsolved enigma, a tangled bundle of joy for me throughout those five years of our relationship. Then one day I proposed to him. Yes, I did because he remained as oblivious to this crucial necessity as a loony person is to his environs. And guess what! He turned me down under the pretext of one of his stupidest philosophies. ‘Don’t stereotype our relationship. I love you as my friend and have no intention of changing that status because the day I did… we’d lose charm for each other.’ What the heck that meant? I am still unable to figure and I don’t really care much but since then he began distancing himself. The rejection was easier to swallow but the sudden change in his behavior baffled me. And no, he wasn’t seeing anyone else I was sure about that. So my every little act began to irritate him and finally we called it quits.
I felt strange thinking about him and our breakup. Not sad but strangely strange. I walked up to the lake. The water was quite and the moon that was silently sailing with me awhile ago now seemed to have jumped on the surface of the glistening, dark water. I felt an urge to throw a stone in the water and disturb the calm. That calmness was eating me. I was calm, the water was clam, the moon was calm, the whole environ seemed to be lost in the meditation of tranquility. When it became unbearable I started back home.
I cooked noodles and dug my fork in the bowl. I was eating like a starved hound. Later, I logged online. There was this new forum for pseudo intellectuals to write and interact. The thread I had started had died after a couple of interactions and I was randomly browsing through other threads when I got an intrusive ‘blip’. Someone had IMed me:
Goodness gracious! My heart almost skipped a beat like a teenager who has those fleeting, love at first sight kind of crushes. I had been reading ‘loyaldoubter’ and I suspected that was ‘him’… in whose search I would often comb through our usual cyber hangouts and forums.
I said trying to be as tentative as I could.
LoYaLDoUbTeR: Interesting nick! Hope I’m not one of those freaks ;-)
Freak_magnet: You sent me an IM to tell that?
LoYalDoUbTeR: Ah… nope! *scratches head in confusion*
LoYalDoUbTeR: Been reading your threads and interacts. Was wondering did you ever live in Austin?
DARN! So that was REALLY him. I was caught between hysteria and frenzy. I couldn’t believe that words and thoughts could reveal you so easily even though you try hard to hide behind innovative screen names. We had been friends for five years and that’s a long period to read someone’s thoughts or complete the lines before the other or type the similar sentences at the same time and then break into a joyous laughter. The night’s going to rock, I thought, after all we were interacting after six months.
Freak_magnet: Umm no. Btw, why did you ask?
I tried to dodge him.
LoYalDoUbTeR: Nothing, I thought I knew you.
Huh! If someone else had uttered those cliché words I would have closed the chat there and then. But that was him and I knew he meant it. Honestly, I was feeling like a virgin bride who waits for her man in anticipation on the petals strewn bed. All of a sudden, a person like me who played with words day and night found herself ending up in the dumbsville. He too seemed to be lost on the other end. That was so typical of him, while chatting he would browse through several sites and sort of multi-task. I was sure he was doing the same at that time. What if, he’s with someone else? I muttered and my heart began to race like a wild horse. Damn possessiveness! I should let go. I should let go. I closed my eyes and began to chant like a Zen. But curiosity got the better of me and I finally uttered,
Freak_magnet: How’s life?
Curiosity was driving me nuts.
Freak_magnet: You sound like a bored husband.
That was so typical of my dry humor.
LoYalDoUbTeR: LMAO! Not yet but who knows in a couple of months I might be.
OMG! He was involved somewhere. I mean so soon. It had been only six months since our separation and he was already in a serious relationship. In a fit of panic I spilled the soda all over me. I looked like a wet duck but who cared about it. I sat straight in bed and began to compose my next question.
Freak_magnet: If you think you might be bored in a few months of marriage then why marry her. Don’t you think that’s an emotional torture?
LoYalDoUbTeR: Oh I was joking! I believe she’s the right kind for me :-D
And what’s your kind. I wanted to ask him but abstained. I doubted any woman could stay with him for life. I mean I knew his eccentric nature. He was such a person that you would either love fully or hated fully. So who could be that woman who’d love him as much as I did? Ah! I hated comparisons.
Freak_magnet: Now that you’ve decided to take a plunge then have a happy swimming!
I was wishing him happy swimming while I was drowning myself. And kindly don’t write ‘S’ in your typical idiotic manner – where the curve of the ‘S’ looks like the belly of a pregnant woman – while signing your marriage license. I mumbled to myself. Was I feeling jealous? Was I behaving like a typical possessive woman in love? No reply came from my mind, heart or soul.
LoYalDoUbTeR: Thanks a lot!
And I switched off the chat. I was seething in pain as he mauled me with his innocent words. That’s what I wanted. The conduits of my blocked thoughts began opening and my fingers started to type frantically the story of the vampires and werewolves that was due in four days. At that moment I felt if I turn my story into a novel it would beat the popularity of ‘Twilight’ saga. But at the same time rather grim reality struck me that letting him go would be the toughest thing I would ever do. I picked up the phone and dialed his number and then I cut off the line. I knew he would never answer the call when my number would flash in his phone. He would not reply to me in ages if I left a message. Why? Why? You do this to me? I would demand an answer. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps I don’t feel like talking with you anymore’ would all he say. Sometimes certain relationships can’t be put into any category for their sheer strangeness, however, what I knew was that our paths would cross again somewhere else, our eyes would meet, our hearts would smile and yet we would behave like strangers… perfect strangers.