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    Wednesday, April 29, 2009

    slow burn

    “I’ll count to five. After that I wont listen to a word you say”, his tone as warm as ice.

    She knew he meant it, she knew she’d have to somehow wrap up her aching heart within the next five seconds. She began, unsteady, her words garbled by the inconsolable tears, “I…it’s hurting..”

    “one”

    “try…for once understand what…”

    “two”

    “…how can I make you understand ev…”

    “three.”

    “let me talk dammit!”

    “four”

    She was crying even more furiously by now, “I can’t talk like this…I..”

    “five. That’s it.”

    “you can’t keep doing this to me. Don‘t push me that way again…” she managed to say in between tears, “I won’t be able to go on like this…”

    “then get lost you bloody bitch!” his face turned red with anger, he turned picked up the chair and threw it at the door beside her. She jumped up with fear and yet she couldn’t tell him how afraid she was. He ripped the intricate mirror off the wall and threw it across the room. She watched helplessly as glass flew all over the room. She was powerless, consumed by her own fear. A fear that agitated him even more.

    “WHORE! Bloody bitch!”

    She sobbed into her blanket, trying to muffle the sounds even more, “stop saying that…”, she managed to say in a feeble voice.

    He didn’t hear her. He stormed out of the house and slammed the door shut on her face.

    2:30am.

    His last words still echoed in the room. She felt stifled…she wanted to run away. But she had nowhere to go. He was all she had in the city. Besides, how could she walk out in the streets when the tears just refused to stop. She had to divert her mind…she looked around the room. It was a mess. She took a deep breath and got up to straighten the chair. There were shards of glass everywhere…she started to pick them up one by one. She kept telling herself that he would be back soon. He knew she couldn’t be alone at night, “he knows it very well”, she repeated loudly as if to silence the reverberations of their argument. Just then she heard her phone ring. A message.

    Won’t come home tonight. Will be back tomorrow morning.

    She calmly placed her phone on the table and continued to pick up the miniscule pieces of glass from the carpet. Her tears now knew no bounds. She scolded herself, but nothing helped. She dropped the pieces of glass and sat down on the floor, sobbing helplessly. She chose this life. Again. She believed in his goodness. Again. It was her decision and she’d given too much of herself to turn back now. She loved him in ways that only she could understand. She couldn’t let go. She wouldn’t. Not anymore.

    She picked up a piece of the broken glass and very deliberately ran it on her leg just above the mark she’d made two days back. She felt a slight burn and watched as a tiny drop of blood surfaced. All the pain she felt suddenly rushed to her leg and she felt surprisingly lighter. And then, nothing. She felt nothing at all except the slight burn. She got up and cleaned up the broken glass.

    Then she went around the house turning off each and every light and with that putting out every little silly notion she had about her love-story. His temper would never change - it would probably get worse. He wouldn’t stop the abusive language no matter how much he promised. It wouldn’t change. She’d never be cherished the way she hoped to be. She’d never just be breathtakingly beautiful to him. Her heart would never again skip a beat at suddenly being caught off-guard by a kiss. He’d never come to her first and beg for her forgiveness irrespective of who‘s fault it was. She’ll never know what it’s like to pretend not forgive just for fun. He wouldn’t steal her away from the crowd…he wouldn’t ignore the crowd to be with her. Yes, he loved her…she was aware of that. But he would never ever again remind her of the love he’d once promised. She drew the curtains till there was complete darkness. Morning he’d be back and pretend everything’s fine and she’d have no option but to play along. One mismatched word or behavior would anger him furthermore.

    Wrapped in a blanket of broken dreams and promises long lost, she drifted off to sleep and dreamt of the love she could only get in dreams.

    4 afterthoughts :

    1. Satans Darling™ said...

      Oh your post reminded me of that performance of Bhaichung Bhutia I saw on TV the other night. It was about a girl who has been hurt by her love, and gradually loses faith in love and everything around her. Then this guy comes along, tries to restore her faith but she is reluctant. The way it ends was awesome.

      The story is beautifully written and its very touching. Dropping an invisible tear out of my eye...

    2. DPhatsez said...

      I'm safely assuming this is a story. :) Great read. Although certain bits reminded me of my turbulent times.Which only drives home the point that you write well!

      Cheers!
      Do drop by my blog.Latest post is guaranteed to make you smile if not laugh :)
      \m/
      Blogrolling you!

    3. IcE MaiDeN said...

      wow grl!!! amazing.. liks dphatsez said above.. i made me think of my own turbulent times.. n so i knw hw d grl in ur story feels. d way u write makes it so real.. it made me go back n see myself in her..

      hope d grl in d story realizes tht thers nuthin to gain n its best to pick up d peices n leave. like i did.

      Amazing story once again...
      Annie.

    4. Misty Rhythm said...

      hey guys...thnx a ton!! :)
      @satans darling...haven't seen the performance, but will surely check it out...youtube zindabad! ;).

      @dphatsez...heehehe, yeah plz do (very) safely assume it's fiction. but inspired nonetheless. and ty soooo much :)

      @ice maiden...good thing is, u're not stuck anymore. u did pick up the pieces and leave. so it's best not to look back, eh? take care gurl...n thnx soo much :)