I’m going to write down everything we talked about today. I believe it’s very important that I document everything I remember from today. Feelings have a tendency to pass with the moment, or morph into something else, or even change completely with time. I want to remember today exactly how it happened, the way I feel right now. Because maybe next week or month or year, when I look back at it, I would see the same incident differently. I know, I know – perspective is important, and definitely helps in the long run, but in this case, I don’t want perspective to change my memory of my time with you today. I want to preserve the moment as I felt it when it was happening.
Let me begin by reiterating that I was glad you wrote to me yesterday. I couldn’t find the courage to call you, or take your calls, and we saw what happened when I was face to face with you, so a letter from you gave me a better opportunity to express myself. I’m not sure I was helpful, or if my words made any sense to you. But it led to our meeting today, and I’m glad I got to see you.
You were already waiting for me when I got to the café. I was a few minutes early too, and for some reason, when I saw you sitting inside through the glass window, I paused, strategically positioned myself so you couldn’t see me if you looked up … and watched you. Not in a creepy way though (or maybe in a creepy way). I hadn’t seen you in three months, after seeing you every day for several years (the encounter yesterday where I saw you for three seconds and then panicked and fled doesn’t count) and it was comforting just to watch you with your coffee.
If you were nervous at all, it didn’t show. You looked calm and collected – the opposite of how I felt. I wasn’t just watching you from outside to be a creep; I needed a few minutes to compose myself. Just seeing you brought tears to my eyes. I had to take a moment to pull myself together before going in.
I was so very nervous. When I checked my reflection in the window, I could see the stress show in the dark shadows under my eyes and the stiffness of my jaw. Ever since I left you, I have acquired this sadness that shows constantly on my face. There’s nothing you could pinpoint that has changed specifically. It just looks like … in the months that we have been apart, I have aged a few years. Or it could just be me; maybe the untrained eye cannot notice the difference.
When I finally walked into the coffee shop, you looked up and spotted me immediately. My heart fluttered. I know, I know. I’m not supposed to be feeling things for you anymore. I’m trying to stop. It’s probably going to take a while. Despite what you think, I don’t have a switch that magically turns off my feelings either.
I wish I hadn’t been shaking so badly when I walked in and you got up to say hi. We smiled at each other, but neither of us smiled. Your eyes looked so pained. I felt a tinge of regret, looking at you, at all I have lost.
‘Hey,’ you said, the forced smile on your face lingering.
‘Hey, you,’ I said, as I dropped my bag on the floor and pulled a chair across from you. It was strange not to … touch you. I can’t remember the last time I greeted you without a kiss on the cheek or a hug. But neither of those things seemed appropriate anymore, and a handshake would’ve just made me sad. Things have changed so much.
‘Was there traffic coming here?’ you asked. Your hair was dishevelled, as if you had been running your fingers through them. I wondered if you had been nervous about seeing me too.
‘Always. I swear to God, I’m this close to physically hurting someone for honking. The entire road is jammed, there’s absolutely nowhere for anyone to go, what’s honking gonna achieve?’ I said, happy for something to talk about. ‘Idiots on the road, I tell you. Plus, the smoke and the pollution, not to mention the heat. I was so claustrophobic in the car, but I couldn’t even crack open a window. What a complete nightmare.’
You were quiet, but I noticed a slow smile creep up the corners of your lips. I counted that as a small win.
‘What! I’m serious,’ I continued blabbering. ‘I can’t believe how hard it’s become for a person to go from point A to point B in this city. All of this is ridiculous.’
At this point, you smiled openly. I felt warmth flow through my body. I was instantly less nervous, but for some reason, I was too hot but also chilly at the same time. It was the strangest experience. I didn’t get much of a chance to ponder over it, because you finally spoke.
‘Sounds like there was traffic coming here,’ you said.
‘Really? What gave it away?’ I laughed. The two-second pause freaked me out, and I quickly filled it with, ‘What about you? Did you encounter traffic coming here too?’
‘Yes, but not half bad as you, clearly.’
‘Or maybe just as bad as me. I tend to exaggerate, remember?’
I immediately regretted saying that. I didn’t even think about it till the words had already left my mouth. We can’t make personal jokes anymore; neither can we talk about the past as if our relationship with each other hasn’t changed. I can no longer casually bring up moments we’d shared when we were still together.
You nodded wordlessly.
This time, I didn’t fill the silence with words either, so it grew between us. We were both unprepared for the conversation that was to follow, but it had to happen. There was no more beating around the bush. After the uncomfortable pause, in which I struggled to find a way to start talking again, you spoke.
‘Was I right?’ you asked.
‘I don’t know,’ I said quietly.
Your frustration showed on your face. ‘I’m sorry, but I will not accept that response. You can’t say that to everything. We need answers. You owe us answers.’
I nodded, gulping hard, trying to form words. ‘I think…’ I began, still struggling to form the right words in my head before speaking, ‘I think, yes, it was part of the reason.’
You were quiet for a long time. So was I. I had thought about this all night, and for months before that. You know this was the one incident in our life that I wanted to completely erase. Never evaluate, never wonder about. That was the only way I knew I could move on and we could be okay. But we broke up anyway. So maybe you’re right. Maybe we should have talked about it, tried to resolve it.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ you asked, your voice low. ‘If this was hurting you … if it was so unbearable that you couldn’t imagine sharing your life with me anymore, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I didn’t want to think about it.’
‘But you were.’
‘I was.’ I nodded, ever so slightly. Yes, I thought about it. Not consciously; I would never allow myself to think about it actively. But it was always in the back of my mind. Literally 24x7. It existed in my subconscious mind, a string of weed growing inside my brain, uninvited, unwelcome, thriving.
‘You should’ve said something.’ I couldn’t bear to see the look in your eyes.
‘I should’ve.’
‘Are you going to say something now?’ I could feel your frustration rising. I didn’t blame you.
‘Yes,’ I said, even though I really, really didn’t want to talk about it. It was clear that you needed me to, and I had been so incredibly selfish before, I couldn’t do it to you again. So, I began speaking again, ‘I thought … I thought that if we pretended that it never happened, it would disappear. Not immediately, but eventually. I thought we could try to move on from the stupid mistake, leave it in the past and never think about it again. Just completely erase that one minute from our life, as if it had never happened.’
You waited. My head worked frantically to gather thoughts and form words, somehow package my haphazard emotions in a box, so that it would make sense.
I gulped again, and began, my voice breaking, ‘When you told me, it was as if I was thrown in ice-cold water. I felt the shock reverberate through my entire body. I couldn’t think. My head was so foggy, my stomach so heavy. I couldn’t make head or tail of it. None of it made sense. You were my everything. Never had I ever thought…’ I trailed off, shaking my head, as I thought back to that night. You’d warned me that you had something important to tell me, but I wasn’t even nervous. If there was a problem, big or small, we would solve it, we always did. There was no reason for me to be nervous. I didn’t even think about it.
I remember you looking at me with fearful eyes. During the entire drive, you kept shooting me nervous sideways glances. I kept joking about how you were freaking me out, and filling your nervous silence with chatter about my day. When you told me, you made sure you had my full attention, something people would do when breaking the news of a close one’s death. You knelt down in front of my chair and held both my hands in yours. Your fingers were shaking, your entire body was. That was my first clue that something was seriously wrong.
Even before you said the words, tears started streaming down both our eyes. I could sense that I was going to be exposed to immense pain. I knew this was going to be bad, that it was going to hurt us both. Then you began talking, mixing facts with feelings. She kissed me, I swear I didn’t know she liked me, I had no idea, I didn’t give her any signals. At that point, even though I was hurt, I was mostly angry with her. My dormant violent tendencies were coming to the surface. I wanted to punch her. I wanted to physically remove her from you. In the first few seconds, I went from being shocked, to hurt, to angry, to thinking that this could eventually become a funny story. Something we’d look back upon years later. Remember that one time that one girl kissed you and I went over there and kicked her ass?
I remember wondering for a second why you were behaving as if life as we knew it was changing, or the world was ending, if this was just a funny story to tell our kids someday.
Then you told me the part that killed me.
And it all made sense, even as none of this was making any sense. I didn’t resist. In the beginning, I was taken aback, but I didn’t do anything to stop it. My mind was flooded with questions. Did you like it? Did you kiss her back? Do you like her? I didn’t ask any of those questions out loud. I couldn’t bear to hear the answers.
You kept talking, answering all of my unasked questions, and I could tell that you were trying to make sense of it just as much as I was. The world stood still, as we sat together that night, completely shaken. Hours and hours later, we agreed that it was just a kiss, it didn’t mean anything or change anything. And that’s what I tried to hold on to, for the days and weeks to follow.
‘I know there’s no point discussing any of this now … I thought we could move past it and treat it as a one-time mistake that didn’t matter at all and nothing would change, but it did, Abhay. Nothing was the same afterwards. Everything shifted. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and wondering. It affected everything. Our friends would talk about how great you and I were together, and I would think about that night. I would read articles about relationships and betrayal and I would think about that night. We would be together, walking down the street, and I would look at you and think about that night. That’s all I did, all the time. It consumed me,’ I said. ‘Every second of every day.’
‘I wish you had told me.’
‘You think I never thought about that? What good would that have brought, dragging you into this emotional hell with me? A world of circular thoughts, spiralling over and over until none of it made any sense? I came up with so many theories to explain everything. Trying to box it up neatly and put it away. I guess that’s the problem when it comes to decisions made by someone else’s mind. You can’t completely know the reasons and motivations behind them, so you can’t justify or conclude anything.’
‘You could’ve asked me anything. I would’ve told you. This is…’ You shook your head, as if unable to find words. ‘You know I would’ve told you anything. I would’ve done anything to help you through this… Why didn’t you let me?’
I wanted to make it easy for you. ‘If you think that this was a missed opportunity … I don’t know, something that we could’ve talked about and resolved. I disagree. Something broke, and it changed my entire world-view. I doubted everything. Everything you did or said … I couldn’t trust you like I did before. I honestly don’t believe that the damage was reversible.’
‘How can you be so sure? How could you have had so little faith in us?’ Apart from the obvious disappointment, I sensed some of your anger coming back too.
‘It was because of the nightmares,’ I told you, looking away. ‘Even if I was able to survive the day, pushing the recurring thoughts to the back of my head and not letting them win… I would be fine for days, but then I would wake up in the middle of the night with terrible nightmares, back to square one. I couldn’t control them. It got so bad that I would try to stay up all night, to a point where I got so tired that I would just pass out and end up in an uneasy, dreamless state. I would wake up exhausted, and go through my day in a zombie-like state, but it was better than the nightmares…’
‘Nidhi … why didn’t you tell me any of this? I don’t know what to say, or how to help you, or this situation…’ you said, still shaking your head. I could see you struggle with processing this information. Were you trying to think back to the last months of our relationship, to align everything you knew with everything you just found out?
I slapped the table and sat back, physically trying to shake myself out of those thoughts and memories. ‘There’s no point talking about this now. It’s too late, it’s not going to help anything. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. The past is the past, all of this has already happened. Talking about it, living in it, I don’t see how it can help either of us. And again, I have to deal with it, and I have been dealing with it, but why would I make you go through it too? That doesn’t sound fair at all.’
‘What are you talking about? It’s not fair to you!’ You looked exasperated. ‘I am the reason behind this. I caused this. If anyone has to face the repercussions—’
‘Okay, enough,’ I said with finality. ‘I don’t have a choice, but you can be saved from all this needless misery. Besides, there’s no point diving into all this shit now, so let’s just not, okay? I’d much rather not.’
You were quiet. You were clearly agitated, but quiet, until you whispered, ‘You’re doing it again. Shutting me out.’
It was my turn to be exasperated. ‘Because there is no point!’ I said, louder than I’d intended. All my emotions came up to the surface without warning. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but there’s no point anymore. It’s behind us now. I accept that shutting you out the first time, when we were still together, is on me. I take full responsibility for that. And everything that happened afterwards, as a result. But there’s no point dwelling over that anymore. I don’t want to know what your intentions were with that girl, or how you felt when she kissed you … and you kissed her back, or anything else, I just can’t, okay? I can’t! Please don’t say anything. You don’t know for how long your words will stay in my head and what I’ll make of them. I don’t need any more new information. I can’t even deal with what I already know. I know, I know it sounds insane, but I can’t … live like this. I have to move on. I have to. This is going to drive me crazy. I can’t think about this any longer—’
‘Okay, okay,’ you said, reaching out for my hand to physically quiet me. ‘I get it. We don’t have to talk about it. I won’t say anything. I’ve put you through enough.’
I gripped the hand you offered, and we stayed like that for a minute. There was no need to speak anymore. It was done. All of this was behind us. We each had to find some semblance of closure and move on from this. Probably with significant baggage and trust issues, but hopefully manageable.
We sat quietly, thinking about the same thing, holding each other’s hand, mourning the loss of our love. It’s so unfair that we have to go on living our lives without each other. We had a plan… We had dreams for the future. Everything we had imagined included the other person. But now we had to bury all of that, and move on. Our paths are different now. Our time together is truly over.
I know you were thinking about these things too, but I’m glad you didn’t say anything. Instead, we talked about how bad things were at home, how everyone kept freaking out about us and our future and what we’ve done to bring shame to our respective families. And even though things are still pretty bad at home, there’s still so much tension floating around, we managed to find humour in it and laughed together. That laughter we shared was a good distraction from the pain I was feeling in the pit of my stomach.
In that moment, sitting across from you in that coffee shop, I yearned to go back to where we came from. Reverse the clock, be blissfully happy again, even though we are too far gone…
Anyway, there’s no point thinking about that now. I’m glad we met today, and no matter how hard it was for me to talk about it, I’m glad it gave you some answers. I’m not sure if it helped you, or if it’s going to make things easier or harder, but I am sure we’re going to get past this. I’m proud of us for handling this situation like adults. Maybe not fully grown adults, but there’s some visible emotional growth for sure.
Tonight, as I’m about to go to bed, I wonder if things will be different tomorrow morning, now that we’ve talked about it. I hope they are. After a long time, I feel hopeful that we will be okay. We won’t be together, but in our separate lives, you will be okay, and I will be okay.