I don’t know why I find it so hard to let go of him. To accept that he is not mine- he wasn’t mine even when I had him. Why do I find it hard to accept that I don’t have a claim on him, that he is not answerable to me, that he can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants? Why? He never gave me these rights even when we were together. I was never entitled to these answers. I was never allowed to the centre. I was supposed to love him from the periphery. “She had claimed my heart, and it feels like when she left she locked it from the outside and took the key with her, I want to let people in-(let you in, he meant)- but I just don’t know how to open my heart” I remember him saying these words to me one night. I told him it’s okay, that someday he will know how to, that someday he will meet someone who will have the key to his heart. I knew it just then that I wasn’t the one for him, but I so badly wanted to be the one that I ignored the small whispers of my mind. His words broke me, yet I never told him because I know breaking me would shatter him, I knew he was a man who wanted to love me yet he was too weak to do so. How could I blame him for not doing something that he was incapable to doing?!
I was broken. I had broken way before I met him and so had he. Yet a part of me wanted to mend him, wanted him to see how lovable he is. But day by day when I realised he didn’t feel so. I felt small. I truly loved him. Yet my love was not enough for him, it wasn’t sufficient, it didn’t reach him, he didn’t feel it. I started questioning the strength of my love, the power of my love, my own heart, my own feelings, my own worth. With him I started questioning myself in a way that I started to fall out of self-love. All my energy was going to waste, I was tiring myself, emptying myself, making myself vulnerable and yet to no avail. I realised that I just wasn’t enough. That maybe I will never be enough. I wanted to give him all of me. All of me to show him that he was starting to mean everything to me. I was scared, I felt vulnerable and judged, yet I wanted to do it. I wanted to do the things I never wanted to do because I wanted him to see what he means to him. Maybe a part of me felt like that would help me claim him, own him, make him mine. That he won’t leave me if I give him those parts of me that I never gave to anyone. But I doubt if he even saw it that way. I doubt if he even saw these things; If it even mattered to him as much as it mattered to me. But I guess not. I realised I was not giving him anything new. He had already had it all, he had done it all. I was just another number. Why was I so stupid?
If I ever try to put our time in figures, more than 75% of out time was spent in fighting, arguing and hurting. Most of the nights with him have been spent in tears and regret and shame. Yet he had claimed a part of me that he refuses to let go. We are not meant for each other. He can never give me all that I want. He can never give me all his love, trust and time. He can never be wholly mine, I will always have to share him with the women before me and the woman after me. Yet a part of me is ready for it. A part of me that I hate as equally as I find it hard to fathom. A friend of me asked me, “what will you do if he comes back? Like he comes and beg you to take him back?” It sounded really weird to me, ‘beg?’ ‘to take him back?’. . “He will never do that” I replied. It wasn’t like I left him or kicked him out or that he did either of these to me. It was strangely mutual. We were destined to fail from the moment we met. “but still what if he comes back, what will you do” my friend continued. “I will never get back with him” I answered. I knew I can’t, I was done being in the periphery, I was done being in the dark, I was done coming second, I was done sharing, I was done feeling like a failure, I was done fighting for a man who will never fight for me, I was done imagining my life with a person who can’t even imagine his own life, I was done dreaming about spending my life with a man who dreamt about some other woman while sleeping right next to me. I was done defending him, I was done protecting him, I was done pretending that maybe someday he could love me the way I want him to, that maybe someday I will mean to him what he means to me, maybe someday I will mean enough for him to fight for me, maybe someday life with me will seems good enough for him to start leading and managing his own life in a better day, maybe someday I will be it, and all, maybe someday. Maybe someday.
We were always waiting for someday, because today was never good enough. Today was always too dark. He was always too broken and I was always too needy. Today was never our day. But we were too scared and lonely and dependent to accept that, too lazy to point it out, too much of a pussy to call it off. We were building castles on the shore blissfully ignoring the sea. We were dreaming of happily ever afters, blissfully ignoring the tides. We wanted so much more than what either of us could promise to each other. We were always two misfits trying hard to fit together.
I am not his anymore yet I feel like he has claim on me. He still owns me. I feel answerable to him. He never wanted me yet I feel like I belong to him. I find it hard to talk to other men, men who might be want I need from a man, Men who are strong, men who can love me, who can give me what I want, men that I might come to like and love. yet each moment spent with such men always seems like a transgression on my part. It feels like a wrong thing to do. Like somehow by talking to such men I am cheating on the man that I once loved. I feel guilty, cheap and dirty. I feel like crawling away from these men and finding my way to him in order to clean and purify myself. to take refuge in his unwilling arms. Yet when I reach to him, I don’t find him alone, I never find him alone, he is always with a girl he once loved but ‘baby not anymore’ as he says. He is always with someone who was a reason for me to leave him. Why can’t I be like him? Why can’t I move on? How different am I from the girls that I hate for not letting him go? How differently will they judge me when I do to them what they do to me? And how different am I from him? I blame him for going back to these girls whenever he feels like it and yet I keep going back to him every fucking time! What is the difference between me and him? How differently am I screwed up from him? What right do I have to judge him for his weakness and desperation when I do the same? At least he does it because he wants to, but what about me? I do it because I can’t help it. I do it in spite of the fact that I don’t want to. Who is more weak? I want to be sans him. I want him gone not just from my life but my heart and mind, giving back the parts that I gave him and he claims, I want him gone disowning the parts of me that he owns. I keep driving him away yet he never leaves me for a moment. He is always there in my heart, mind, memories; he is in all the corners of my college and all the rooms of my house. He is everywhere.
I want to scream. I want to rage out and destroy. Yet my anger is not directed at him but at me. Surprisingly I can never say he lied to me, He always told me not to love him yet I did anyways- I just couldn’t help, each part of him calls out to my love the way moon calls out to the waves at night; he always told me he was broken yet I thought I could mend him, he always told me he can’t love me yet I thought I could accept it, he always told me he was too weak, yet I thought I could be strong enough for both of us. I thought so, because I desperately wanted to be all such things. No one ever caught my heart the way he did, no one made me feel the way he does, I wish he could say the same for me. I hate myself for having been so full of dreams and stupidity. I wish I was more practical and rational. I wish I understood the things I understand now. I wish I could do something about the way I still feel and the way that he will never feel. I wish I had more self respect than that. I want to let him go the way he has let me go. I want him to let me go. Someday I want to be as whole and hopeful and dreamy as I was before him. Someday, I want to be strong enough to let go of the ‘some-days’ I dreamt with him. Someday- but not today.