Foreword: Some random ramblings. Planning to use a modified and perhaps a shortened version of it in a novel.
What if the fact that ‘I sometimes find it very hard to remember your face and your voice’ becomes as much useless for me as the fact that ‘you don’t care whether I still remember you or not’?
What if the fact that I just can’t visualize your face in my mind – while I still remember each and every feature of the faces of many of those strangers who passed me by when I met you the first time – is nothing but just an attempt to live in (or live through) a state of denial enforced constantly through an inefficient, fake and forced amnesia…?
What if I could have killed the ‘I’ inside me and if you or I could have killed the ‘you’ inside you so that we could have just tried to see how it would be to live as ‘we’, the way we (or at least I) once dreamed us to be?
What if I could believe with all my heart, for just a single moment of time, that what you did was not what you wanted and that what you wanted was not what you did in the end?
What if I get that same courage of yours which enabled you to fall in and fall out of love?
What if I could use that courage to tell myself that what I think is the end and what you believe is the end is not the end; but yet another bollywood, holywood, lollywood or Mills & Boon styled twist in that love story of ours which now misses every single ingredient necessary for any type of love, or any piece of story?
What if there was no beginning and no end to our story; the story which ended before it could really begin; the story you will always deny you were a central character; the story you created yourself despite all my fears regarding what ‘blessings’ tomorrow may shower upon us?
But what if there was no tomorrow?
Or what if those tears of yours were real? What if there existed nothing called tears but just blood shedding through eyes? And what if you had still shed those tears of blood over and over and over again just to prove or to mourn the fact or the myth what you had to do was not what you wanted, and what you wanted was not what you had to do?
What if I had still managed to give your tears of blood no importance, and still insisted to continue our (or my) quest to be ‘we’, just as any good, arrogant, senseless, selfish player with no sense of good sportsmanship would do in the game of love and war?
What if we could sit as ‘we’ just for a day and just re-examine everything and every event with each other’s eyes and a stranger’s eyes (and btw, we were strangers always isn’t it?) and just imagine if there is something we could do differently?
Or what if you had a choice and a right to erase a name, a vow, a time span or a certain memory off your brain’s memory plate and your heart’s love plate (if you ever had one that is)?
What if, you still had not made that choice – to erase my name, my memory, and the vows, the issues, the dreams, and every single thing which has anything to do with me and us, and the ‘you’ within you which, I thought, belongs to me and cares about me- even if you have had that choice, chance and right?
If you had not made that choice, it would have been a situation totally inverse of the existing reality, of the current conditions which I constantly try to forget, ignore and disown.
The reality that it took you just a few seconds of indecision or a just a tiny little bit of hesitation to erase me from your life and (presumably) your heart, and to even erase the ‘me’ and the ‘us’ within me .
And while no matter what you said before vanishing, I will hold this belief dear to my heart, soul and mind – till the very moment my heart, soul, and mind are connected to one other and – in some inexplicable, strange, metaphysical, and painful way – connected to your heart, your soul, and your mind, your thoughts, and to a love which I would love to believe never ever existed, and which I want to get rid of despite in love with it, that you never had any right, any reason and any need to do what you did.
And just as I won’t have believed the 6 billion people of this world, before you left, if they had told me that you would ever even think of leaving me, I won’t forgive you ever, even if all the 6 billion inhabitants of this strange place we call mother earth and their Creator ask me 6 billion times to forgive you.
Or perhaps I will forgive you. I will try to till I succeed in forgiving you. But on one condition. Only if just one person among those 6 billion people just comes forward and tells me every single thing without hiding anything.
And I will then forgive you.
But that one person should be none other than you.
Filed under: Gothic Maverick, Random Ramblings, Romantika, heart-ache, love, possibility, self-denial, what if, you
