Bless the broken road.

“Have you ever noticed the headlights that reflect on the window panes late at night? The shadows pass like a series of old photographs and I am taken back to you .

I like to remember it. I like to remember the conversations and the things you did to make me laugh.” 

The crowd fell silent and she took a deep breath to continue, ”  It took me a while to realise but I did- Love doesn’t come to us in crashing waves or thunderstorms. It appears in the songs on the radio or in a certain shade of the sky . It dawns upon us slowly like a warm winter afternoon and too often, leaves us in chills by the end of the day. Some place, you wish to hold on to it. The moments, the breaths,  the heartbeat. I was ready to give it all up- everything. I was fully out of my mind with love. The first time we tell someone that we love  them- we aren’t thinking about what we are throwing into the fire, as long as we can keep it burning. If only, we could just, you know, sit beside the pale glow of the dying flame, once red now blue.

//

“I don’t know how to put this together to make you understand” fidgeting with the papers she managed to speak. “The simple feeling that we start drifting apart from somebody every second and when every conversation ends the same way, it’s heartbreaking. When a person is at the verge of losing love, trust me there is nothing more desperate or maddening in the world because they are just trying to make sense of the puzzle whose peices have already gone missing. ” 

He stared at her from across the hall, listening to every word she said. He noticed the heaviness and the amount of effort she had to put in to speak. She started again, 

” You see, it’s inevitable . The hurt is inevitable . It is very easy to be cynical about love. Say love doesn’t exist and term it as an invalid argument because a person can never really understand or give reasons when asked why they did what they did when they were in love. It is something that the mind has never understood and it never will- Our hearts do more than just pump blood, tears come from the soul and somebody else’s art makes us cry. It’s true. 

It takes courage to come undone.” She smiled.

” And I don’t think I am strong enough for that. You see when once the doors of your heart have been blown off, you make sure the next time you construct them, they are stronger than ever. That is why heartbreaks are the worst kind of pain. The worst kind of suffering taken by the human soul. It is how we love in the end- with our hands cold; shaking and empty over the love that was once a glowing flame, now turned to smothering ashes, eyes filled with haunting memories, we keep counting the minutes. “

She fell silent for a minute to let the hush settle. 

“I feel people underestimate love. Maybe it is the most powerful emotion a person feels- for  it is capable of both, destroying people and creating life and If I am standing here in front of you I would like to be completely honest, I have always been terrified by the idea of love- to dance in between the bliss and the inescapable chance of getting shattered in the hands of one because I know that love with either save me or drown me completely.   

 You see, we are born again when someone tells us they love us, we live in the fractions of time while they love us and very often, we are not able to accept death quitely, without a fight even when we know it’s just us, ourselves who we are up against. We lose parts of our existence in the baseless war, every time.” she laughed. I felt the feeling of emptiness taking over me, I knew she was going through a lot then, if only I could just take away the hurt, somehow. 

” You see, you can go ahead, try to find reasons, make sense of certain things in this world but you won’t be able to. Because they are not supposed to make sense. Things hurt because they matter and you care. And I did not want to get hurt, so I decided I would just completely stop caring because  if I don’t care, things won’t matter, then there would be no hurt.

Simple, isn’t  it?

Not so much. As I applied this theory of mine in real life, I started realising that I could not feel myself anymore. I was losing myself with every passing minute.  When I stopped caring, I was not only stopping hurt to enter my life but also not allowing myself to feel the simple pleasures of love that choke us to happiness.

Feelings are all we have, to be honest,  and love is the only thing we take with us when we die. If you take away this single trait of mine, you are messing with who I am as an individual. You are taking away my ability to empathise with things and notice the minute details of this universe- how the watch ticks and people fall in love in ways  that will forever remain unknown to us.”  She passed a warm smile and whenever I saw her like that, my heart skipped a beat.  I completely forgot about the things that were hurting and I felt that even if things were not okay then, they would be, eventually.

” So take it as it is. Through the dark, the light – just don’t stop caring. It is rare to have found a connection here because it is a big world and people are people. Minds change like seasons but don’t restrict your heart from feelings the things it does. Carry it in you. Make it a part of you. 

Giving up on things is easy, try holding on. ” 

” I guess all I am trying to say is, don’t be scared of getting hurt. For certain people, it is worth the hurt and the pain. It is a privilege. 

//

Things will happen.

Hearts will be broken, mended. Scars will be left; some that would last till the end of time. 

Sometimes, things will add up, other times they just won’t. You won’t know now, but eventually you would.”

She stared at me from across the hall and said, ” Thankyou for making me realise this. Eternally grateful. 

Truly.” 

 I felt all eyes on me. I could hear my heart beating; I could hear the human noises , I could feel the goosebumps and I could taste the tear the escaped the corner of my eye. I knew what she was talking about, I had felt it; I had lived through the darkness at 2:56a.m. I had seen her fall down and there were times I was not able to help her get up. 

Even in the darkest of days when she was moved to rehab, things got really hard but I didn’t let go. I couldn’t. 

There were so many times when I had not known what were the right words to say or what was the right thing to do. There were times when giving up felt like the easier choice, but something stopped me. Something kept me hooked to this, to us, to her. You see, when somebody comes along who is able to make you feel so much, who makes you want to be different, better; who is able to affect you in ways you had never imagined, make you do things you thought you never would- you hold on to them.  

She had pulled me out of the blue so many times, she had been my anchor in times when there was no hope at all, she had been and still is the only angel in my life and I can’t imagine a day I could be without her. She’s home to me.

 And I guess, this is where the story ends, and the journey begins.

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