Page 3

I sprawled on my bed. I’d spent the entire day doing that and flipping through multiple channels on the TV, unable to settle at any one channel. I went through my IMs to check if he’d messaged me, which he hasn’t. I continued to surf channels until finally settling down on some channel which was playing ‘A Walk to Remember.’ Both Mom and I, are aware of the fact that I cry whenever I watch this movie, which helped, because I needed to sob, and this way, I wouldn’t have to give any explanations in case I was caught crying.

I checked the calendar in my cell phone for the 58^th time, just to make sure it was 6^th of March. It was 3 in the noon; 15 hours past midnight when the date had altered from 5^th to 6^th. Our relationship has completed four and a half years today. I know, it’s too naïve and childish to be celebrating half-yearly anniversaries, but it was he who started it. He’d wish me ‘happy anniversary’ on the 6^th of every month. Every month. And I don’t think I am at fault when I expect him to wish me that every six months at least.

It’s not like it has to be always him. I wished him. I sent him a text, which he hasn’t checked even now. I called him up, but he didn’t receive the call. I understand he might be busy, but he was always busy. And yet, he always made it a point to wish me. It’s like his priorities have changed. Or I’m not a priority anymore. And that hurts. That hurts more than anything else. I still remember those days. We used to chat all-day-all-night. And then one day, all of a sudden, he asked me out. We had our exams starting the next day, and I’d asked him to concentrate on studies for the time-being.

And by the time I decided that I wanted this relationship as much as him, he had assumed my answer was a ‘No,’ and he was heartbroken already. When I messaged him the next night that it was a ‘Yes’ from my side, the first question he asked was “So, technically, I can call you my girlfriend, right?” and I’d had the best laugh of my life. He was always there for me. From studies, to family problems, from friend troubles to my illnesses, he stood by me in everything. He was always the perfect boyfriend, and I’d never imagined I would refer to him as the prefect boyfriend in past tense, someday.

One night, after resolving a fight we had had the entire day, he’d told me he read in some magazine that relationships are always cute in the beginning, but they lose their freshness, their charm with time. He wanted to make sure ours won’t. He wanted me to say that it won’t. Only then, did he stop worrying and shedding tears, and I realized how lucky I was to have someone like him in my life. Someone so innocent, someone so childlike, someone so pure. And now when I mull over it, I think I am in agreement with the opinion of the person who wrote that magazine.

Like, when you look at a flower which has just started blooming, you think of nothing but having it for yourself. You stare at its beauty for hours together. And when it finally blossoms, you pluck it and keep it for yourself; in a flask full of water, in a glass cubicle, in your favourite novel. And then one fine day when you look for it, it has crumbled into paltry pieces. When you try to touch it, you touch the numerous particles, you can never touch the flower as a whole. It’s the same with relationships, I guess. In these past four and a half years, I have loved Nikhil more than anyone else I’ve ever loved. But now, I feel like I don’t know him anymore. He isn’t the person I was once in love with. I’ve never asked him for anything: dresses, shoes, gifts, nothing. All I want and need is a little time, and for him to assure me that I am still the most special person in his life.

We’re still together no doubt. He is still my boyfriend. He still drops me home after college. But there’s something that isn’t normal. And I don’t know what it is. We still hug each other, but there’s some unknown distance that separates us. There’s something that pulls us apart. There’s something that makes me realize that what we have isn’t enough. And I don’t know what to do. I hate this. It’s like this relationship is a liability. And I don’t get the point of being in it anymore. But I love this relationship. And I love him. I have loved him forever. I don’t want to let him go. The only way to save what we have, is figuring out what’s wrong. But I fear, that what’s wrong is beyond healing. I guess I might know what’s wrong, what’s separating us, what’s pulling us apart. I guess I’m not me anymore, and he isn’t him anymore…