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Sudharshan Nov 2017
I am writing you this ,
The girl with regrets,

My heart is filled with regrets too, and the biggest regret of my life is how we consumed each other. Once upon a time, we tasted love and cupcakes, but now we are just the fumes of a cigarette. We inhaled each other’s loneliness so much and so often that we became addicted to it, and we fell down like ashes. It’s a little ironic to see how I did not appreciate what I had until my ignorant heart reminded me with fits of pain.

And the rawness of this regret is so intimidating. The moment before you reach the tipping point and break is horrifying. It takes the breaths out of your lungs, rips your mouth apart and plunges the words that were once left unspoken inside your tongue. Press regret between your teeth for too long and you cannot look yourself into the mirror anymore.

Don’t hate yourself for the mistakes you made. Regret often turns into hatred, I know—love losing its presence from your heart, and ever so silently, a poison of unwanted, unasked questions make you its prisoner. Once, a prisoner of love. Now, of questions and regrets. Love turns quiet, a humming voice taking its last breath and you step further away from the stars that you once held so dearly, so closely, fading into a night where the sun never rises.

The curtains to openness have been drawn and you stand behind it, away from everyone, too scared to step out and too worried about letting the audience applaud for your bravery. The audience, you suppose is empty who will not understand the regrets. But believe me, somewhere in that audience, there is someone who'd understand your regret and wants to reach out to you.

To let you know, the right things in life involve regret. And a choice without the doubt of a regret is a choice that will not be remembered.
And, you get used to the choices, after all.

And the crumpled note has made me say this all.
Sudharshan Aug 2017
Maybe, I was never meant to stay. Especially, when you wanted me to. I have always been interested in walking, running, and chasing memories out of everyone. The distance to me is minimal yet it seems like a walk of a lifetime, for every step you take towards me, I take a step back. We are in a loop and no stars in the sky will fall into our constellation.

It still hurts that I left and you could do nothing about it. It still does. In my serene days and in my senile nights. Every time, there is a whisper or an echo of your name, I am crushed beneath the pain of guilt. The idea of staying intrigues me, and you know this. You know it that one day I will stop running and settle down. Make a home out of the hotel rooms. I remember your smile and your frown. Your white sandals as you slipped your feet into them and the fringes of your hair with the wind cutting through your hair. What must have hurt is that we talked about me leaving. And I laughed. I laughed to cover the smell of pain I would leave behind.

And you could do nothing when I left.
It was a choice I made. I always looked back, and you were there, your hands buried between your palms.

I liked three sugar cubes in my coffee. You wouldn’t know the reason, and I cannot risk to tell you my secret of sanity.

There is so much you would never know about me. What I did to keep myself sane. Why stars spoke to me about their loneliness, why the fields cried out to caresses my feet, why the thorns thirsted for blood, why laughs after 3 AM were of sadness that woul follow, why I couldn’t continue another day at 7 PM, why I never followed your footsteps to develop attachment, why people who broke me were broken too, why the sunrise always reminded me of suffering, why I was scared of being alone with myself, and leaving without painful goodbyes and why I always preferred three sugar cubes in my coffee to poison the bitterness in me. Three, every time.

Maybe, you would never understand me. Maybe, you would have understood the galaxies inside me, and made a home in there
First one

— The End —