Yes, it’s all about who’s stood by your side when you needed them the most. But what about those who chose to leave despite their wish to not do so. They had to, because that was best for you. That was what they had to do in that moment of truth when you have to choose the right from the easy. Or maybe because it was best for them.
We are hasty in making decisions, especially when we are heartbroken. Ever thought about how frustrated we get when something doesn’t span out the way we wanted? Think about it. Speaks tonnes about our capacity as humans. What’s the difference, I ask? Rather introspect.
The right things feel wrong. There is always a second thought to the most thought-out solution. Our brain somersaults a hundred times over events, digging out thoughts from its deepest wells, from right the core of its cells, from the thousand cranial nerves. Draining us.
A recent event left me scarred. I’d rather not talk about it. But let me ponder out loud on the trailing thoughts. I’ve always believed that there’s a limit to how much a person can tolerate in a lifetime. Apparently, it’s quite the opposite. There’s no limit to pain or suffering.
A friend, a beloved one, vowed to stay close, forever. Things went haywire as was destined and he chose to leave. Hasty, he was. Hurt, was I. I so want to believe that what he did was probably out of sheer pressure of sorts or maybe the righteous cells in his body coaxed him to back out of a friendship that lasted a decade. Yes, more than a decade.
I’m being hard on myself right now beating myself to believe he did not deserve my friendship. That the times we spent together were mere illusions that are stuck in my head. That there’s nothing that can be done when someone chooses to leave but to accept their decision. But I also know none of it is true. I’ve cried myself to sleep. And yet I wish, things had not ended.
Forcing myself into doing things is something I suck at. Maybe that’s why it’s so tough for me. People come and go all the time, but friends don’t. And friends shouldn’t. Believing that someone who was an integral part of your life is now non-existent is effing hard. Moreover, that your friendship with them was a mistake is painstakingly hard to accept.
You miss them all the time and they don’t. So then, was there a connection at all? And if there was, why was it so easily crushed to death?
I might be wrong, in all fairness. And I am ready to sort it out. Are you? Is what I wish to ask. But to who? I have no idea. Maybe it’s another mistake that I’m yet thinking about sorting things out when the other person has clearly moved on.