I dread many things in my life. One of them being addictions. The rusty, wobbly, perpetual addictions which vouch for attention every freaking day. And I, meekly, cater to their whims and fancies. Alas! There goes my previous article down the hypocritical drain.
My daily chores are a mélange of activities I cannot give upon. Yet the labyrinth of life has voluptuously chosen a special few which are potent enough to pitch a handsome amount of valuable time and tender care. While some of them are worth the pain, the others are not (?). Still the attachment succumb me to subtly pave my way along with theirs. Do our paths meet? Ha! There lies the story of my failure. It might be sounding like a didactic diction on my part. But what if I tell you that it is more of a rant? A wild, incoherent, emotional articulation of a recent split-up. Yes, people. WE BROKE UP!
“Ours was a happy relationship.” If I say it, I would be completely lying. But fuck honesty. It’s the façade that matters these days, and so – Ours was definitely a happy relationship. We have lazily gazed the stars. We have sumptuously spent hours listening to each other. We have embraced each other with the warmth engulfing us both and thereby increasing the intimacy of our love. Ok wait! We have done whatever you’ll expect two people in a relationship to do. Now, now. Please don’t go overboard with your imagination. It hurts. Not because it ended. But because the fault was mine. Had I not eyed that other… umm.. Let’s not talk about it now. Pretty, please?
Though my current state of mind can be perfectly illustrated by “Want you back” by Cher Lloyd, I DESPERATELY want to get out of the clutches of my past. The memories are so daunting, so intimidating that they haunt me from the grave of the dead yesteryear and chase me till I lose my breath; like a suffocating pillow has been stuffed into my mouth and I cry and howl and weep until I manage to escape the dreadful demon and scream “STOP!”. This relationship has already ruined by last semester. Blinded by love I couldn’t, then, see the damage done involuntarily. But this time I plan to take a step back, revert to the old teenage ways and stick to my TEXTBOOKS. Do you hear me ‘novel’ novels? I have an eye on the other member of your breed. And, hence, I am ditching you. Please don’t take this break-up seriously. If the sanguine sanctions permit, we’ll be together soon. Maybe on the dawn of the upcoming new year. Maybe. Maybe!