Tag Archives: change

On the mend

25 Jul

It has been a while since I last thought of you.
I like it this way.
I think maybe this time round, I really am over you.

Honestly, there was a point in time where I thought I would never get over you.
That was how intense my feelings were.

And then one fine day, you broke my heart.

Consciously or otherwise, it was a good thing for me.

Sure, it hurt.
I spent days typing messages to you, and then deleting them before I could hit the ‘Send’ button.
I spent nights crying in the shower, nights crying in bed whenever I thought of you.
There were days where I’d break down on my way to work because I saw someone who reminded me of you.
I cried watching White House Down because I knew if I was in that situation, I could never rely on you to save me (not that I’d ever be..).

But eventually, all that crying has to stop.
I can only afford so much tears.
I got tired of crying, and of being miserable.

The moment I decided not to cry anymore, my body started mending the broken parts.
It started looking for distractions that I never knew existed, or appealed to me.
I think its amazing how the human brain works.

Slowly, you started fading from my thoughts as it shifted to other things that made me happy instead.

I think of you occasionally.
I do.
I did.
I still do.

If you’ve ever really loved anyone before, you’d know that it it impossible to completely erase him or her from your memories.

Nor is it possible to completely forget the pain once the memories come back.

But its ok.

Pain changes people.

Outwardly everything is still the same but deep within, something is happening.
I’m not sure if its good or bad yet.

Either way, I’m not complaining.

I like changes.
Always did.


Rubenesque Tragedy

11 Dec

He sat himself across from her, next to the window so that he gets a better view of her all tangled up in the sheets.
Lithe, inscrutable, mysteriously alluring with a hint of danger, inquisitivity and satisfaction in her eyes.

She was a mystery to him. Not like anything he’s met before.

He watched her untangle herself from the sheets and sat up in bed so that he gets a better view of her.

Damn, there really is something mysteriously alluring about her.
She’s not perfect – fleshy, with cellulite, no wispy waist, medium perky breasts.
Yet, she’s seductive.

Like the women from Rubens’s paintings.

Beauty in all her nature glory.

She made no move to cover anymore than what was already covered by the draping sheets.


He wanted to reach out and touch her but he didn’t. He was afraid that if he did, she would disappear like a mirage.

He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked but he couldn’t.

Instead he told her to cover up and that she looked disgusting.

Fat and disgusting.

He told her to get out of his bed; she had to leave before any of his friends woke up. She had to leave before any one saw her.

He could see the questions in her eyes, he could see the hurt but he had to do it.

He picked up her clothes and told her to get dressed.

He could see her dressing the in mirror and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
The hurt and welling tears that threatened to fall only made her even more endearing.

He wanted to hold her and tell her he didn’t want her to leave but he couldn’t. That would just make things worse.

He waited by the door for her to finish dressing.

As he sent her down, he told her that he is her worst habit, and she has to get rid of him.

That was the only truth he said to her the whole night.

He walked her to the lobby and headed upstairs.

He wanted to turn around and ask her to stay but he didn’t. He could see her tears rolling down her cheeks.

Like strings of pearls, so achingly beautiful.

He watched her leave from his window and took in a deep breathe.

Her scent lingered in the room still.

It was intoxicating.

It was a tragic love affair and he was the author. He wondered if he could change the ending.

His heart grew heavy and he reached for the bottle.

Perhaps, when he had found enough courage to do so, he could.