Wednesday, May 18, 2011

It was past midnight. It didn’t seem normal. Through the dreary rhymes of blowing wind, there was voice coming along. Somebody was crying. I could feel it. He wasn’t just crying. He was deeply mourning as if someone endeared to him has passed away. I suddenly woke up. I had tear drops rolling down my eyes. It was me, crying in my dreams. Moments into the realization, I burst out into tears. I was missing her. She had left me a while ago. She was gone for good. Since then, it has become habitual. I cry like a little baby. I mourn and then I fall asleep. Ever since I had known her, she has been everything to me. That’s the fault of my persona. The ones I really like, it doesn’t take a moment to give everything to them. I don’t care if I might get just pain in return. There was a past, a frightening past, associated with me. It kept frightening me that I may lose her. I might repeat the mistakes I had done five years ago. Petty things, and her getting angry on those, kept worsening my fear. Yes, I was being succumbed to the neurotic sickness. I was getting sick to seek her attention. Since then, every little case like that kept on making me worse. I cried every time, to make her up to talk to me. She kept on ignoring me. It was in her nature, which I could not understand, because I was sick to ignore the facts. And, the fear kept mounting upon. Things kept on worsening. We broke apart, for a while. A small ego clash! I was hurt. I knew it was my fault. I accepted it as my fate. Her kindness gave me one more chance. This time, I told her something, which I had been hiding for long. I wanted to ask her to marry me. She got little angry though. But, my neurosis was on hyper this time aided with my ugly ego, I did things which broke us apart. It was over. She is gone. I miss her. I cry. I mourn, every night, every day. Don’t know, until when I’ll realize what I have done. It was my fault. I loved her. I feared to lose her. I didn’t tell her. Probably, I expected her to read me. Probably, I could not read her. The only thing left in my life is mourning, for now. Can’t say when this phase will be over. I will miss her. She won’t. She will hate me.