Some people applaud what they think is my brutal
honesty, but others tell me that my blog is way too personal. Yes, the blog is
personal, but I don’t know how honest it really is. I write a lot of emotional
stuff that doesn’t go up. It’s only the funny stuff that makes it. I want to
save face and I choose what side of me I want to reveal.
I do not claim to understand the scope of a blog. I
don’t really read other blogs and I was quite shocked to find that people read
mine. 1500 views really!!! Who are you people? Why do you read this?
I am not sure what motivated me to start writing this
blog. I have had it for years and never bothered to put anything on it.
Honestly I write it because I had so much stuff I wanted to say. And the person
I used to say it all to was no longer there to say it to. Maybe the bunch of
you, who read it, are just collectively filling the hole that person left. I
guess this blog is my coping mechanism.
So I decided to try to make this post HONEST. Warning:
this one is not funny. In fact, pull out the tissue boxes biatches.
I watched Queen last night. And
the movie hit closer to home than I care to admit. I went with the best friend
and her husband (newly weds). They sat through the movie and got excited every
time they recognized the parts shot in Paris from their honeymoon there. I sat
through the movie relating very much with Kangana's character's pain. I cried
silently, so no one could see me being pathetic.
When the grandmother in the film tells Kangana that a
better man is waiting, I recalled the many times my mother, the best friend and
countless other people had said the same thing to me. I was not left standing
at the altar. I wasn’t even engaged. My relationship had just gotten to a point
where people presumed that marriage was an eventuality, and I didn’t tell them
any different. In fact in my head I was totally planning my wedding, in my head
and on Pinterest.
I sent him a telegram, one of the last few telegrams to
be sent, I asked him to marry me. Tragically he only received it after we had
broken up. All it took was one fight that led to another. One escalated
argument, one mistake. And that was it, how quickly it all changed course. Sometimes
I feel like I don’t get to be sad, but there it is anyway.
I assumed I would be able to fix what I broke. I thought
I'd fly down, make my puppy face, give him a hug and it would be fixed. I was
unprepared for the cold unforgiving person on the other end. This was not the
man who loved me, not the man I had loved. I flew back the next morning,
with the sun rising, the clouds parting, my heart sinking. When I got back to Bombay, it was raining and
I felt like this city I had refused to leave for a man, was comforting me with
its own tears.
How do I even begin to explain the feeling of heartbreak?
The air feels like it has escaped you, breathing becomes hard, you want to
scream and cry all at the same time. You can distract your self with work and movies
and friends and men. But then all the work is done, the movie gets over, the
friends go home. You can try to drown it all out with booze but hung over or
not, it still fucking hurts.
As destroyed as I was from that flight to Delhi, there
was some inkling that somehow time would help. So I didn’t tell everyone for a
little longer. Hoping that not saying it would make it not true. I was at a
family party and an excited aunt was making these beautiful roses out of
tissue. She came up to me and told me she was going to make these as decorations for my wedding. It was time to tell people that the relationship had ended. And
when I did my aunt cried, she barely knew him, but she was sobbing and needed to
be consoled. I had broken their hearts, their dream of this perfect white
wedding. I had broken my own.
From Alfred Lord Tennyson's
I hold it true,
whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I
sorrow most;
Tis better to have
loved and lost
Than never to have
loved at all.
To all the people who helped me cope. To the friends that
got me smashed, plied me with sugar or just gave me a hug when I needed it. To
the friends that flew in to keep my weekends occupied. To the man that stayed
with me till I fell asleep cause I couldn’t bear to be alone. To my family, for
dealing with the insufferable drama queen I had become and for always taking my
side. To all the people responsible for that birthday stunt on face book. – I
am so lucky to have you guys be a part of my life. Thank you.
