The story...

I will write this slowly, taking my time. Because you see, I have not a thing to do in my life. As the wind shifts from being warm to being chilly, so that one wonders whether it's winter or spring, I lie on my bed and write this.

Have I told him everything yet? I wonder. Was it not a bit sudden? Will we ever go back to the old days again? Did I at all like being his friend? Was this whim a mere act of envy? Because at the end of the day I love him in a most possessive way. I could not take in his other interests and still continue being his friend...

Don't misunderstand me. I thoroughly enjoyed our friendship. It had almost become a ritual. I am a withdrawn person by nature, but way I always give a little time to my parents, my dogs and puppies, I gave a little time to him before retreating in my shell. I was not lying to him when I told him that I was almost happy doing that.

In fact I almost forgot my virtual love story under the dizzying influence of this real friendship. This quiet person lighted up my mundane world in such a way that anything beyond that seemed redundant.

But after all it's spring. I couldn't let my romanticism die a silent death. And frankly, when I am not loved enough, I won't be loved as a friend too, not for long anyways. A relationship between two people lives if there's a need from both of them. My best friend used to say that a bridge cannot be built from one end. It has to be constructed from both ends, has to cover equal distance and then merge midway.

Though I hoped against hope that I'd be important to him as well, I knew that I am not. Why be a beggar in a relationship? I refuse to be sad about this although I already know that I can never be happy. In fact I seek that abyss of death like never before. Now is the best time to end this life. I have just gotten rid of the only person who could have cured me. He had asked me once, "why do you think you don't deserve happiness? Why are you so harsh on yourself?"

Well he can now see things for himself...

PS - only when the tears well up, uninvited, time and again, repeatedly, embarrassingly, do I know that I am actually sad...