I want magic. I want madness. I want “you”.
Her friend told her to write bravely. She wrote, “He said he loved me and I believed him. I loved him, I hope he loved me too… even if it was for a moment, I hope he loved me too… the way I loved him.”
I will never know for sure if music eases or aggravates a lover’s pain. It is difficult, almost impossible, to define the function of music; but an existence without it seems preposterous… it satisfies a primal need to feel, to feel till you bleed out all those emotions… and then feel some more.
And she bared her true feelings to the people that mattered to her.
She told them how he made her feel. She was surprised at her audacity. She knew they did not approve. She knew that they thought it was an absolute mismatch. But she still said it all and said it out loud. He took her to places she’d never been, places she could not even have imagined existed. So she kept trying to explain what he was… Not that anyone was convinced, but she felt uncurbed.
At the very least it was liberating. She felt liberated… emancipated!
And then the realisation dawned on her… He indeed made her tremble with the sweet pain of pleasure, every time. He made her experience pleasures she never thought she was capable of feeling. But in the end, he was just a chapter in her book that was fast coming to a close… A chapter, a lesson, a memory and an experience. An experience she unabashedly reveled in, an experience that made her aware of a side she never knew existed, an experience that left her with a lot of anticipation for the coming chapters… and that is one thing she was grateful to him for… probably, the only thing.
Don’t preach to me about balance, the concept of it is lost on me. I am a person of extremes, I always make a choice… to love or to hate, to care or to be indifferent, to say it all or to shut up, to either be hyper or dull. Yes, it always is either-or. It always is about making a choice. No compromises. I live, and I live my way. Some call it the mad way, but I have seen people existing the sane way suffocate in boredom and would refrain from calling that “living”. Take my advice… be mad, stay mad.
What do you do when the person you hero-worshipped fails you miserably?
She was determined to rationally understand what went wrong. Assumption, she thought, was the convict in their relationship. When he said that is “our song”, she assumed our meant “him and her”. When she said she wanted pure
unadulterated love and he said that is what he wanted too, she assumed the definition of “pure unadulterated love” was the same for both of them. When he said “forever”, she assumed he meant forever. It was definitely not him, not
him… yes. Assumption indeed was the culprit, the only guilty party.
Heartbreaks make you stronger, said the writer in this very sensible piece. How true, she thought… and how incomplete. Her first heartbreak had beyond any doubt made her stronger. It had made her…