#9 – She’s a Stranger with my Secrets

It was simply euphoric. They way her lips moved and how her eyes glittered. It felt as if time had stopped, just enough for me to notice her more clearly. It was simply magical. There was nothing truly more loving than that. I could see how her cheeks puffed when she smiled, how her eyelashes moved and how audible her breath became by the second. I liked how she moved her fingers down on my hand. How she would take pauses, look me in the eyes and tell me all the things I should be happy about.

I never thought she would become a stranger with all my secrets.

There were always things, things she said, or did and no matter how little they were, I always noticed but never had the guts to tell her I did. I always had something more to say, something more to do, something more to feel and express but I was constantly held back by my own sense of reality. I sometimes wonder what made her stay for as long as she did as I was nowhere near to what she deserved.

I was constantly held back by my own sense of reality

She gifted me two things in particular; one is the spiritual growth I needed to become the person I am today and second is the belief that no matter how low you think of yourself and no matter how ugly you think you are, there is always going to be someone who will love you for you. They will tear away those walls and see into your soul and tell you that you are beautiful, at-least for them.

This lack of perfectionism ultimately led to the death of this sacred bond

I was flawed both in spirit and mind, and this lack of perfectionism ultimately led to the death of this sacred bond. I never had the guts to call her and tell her how I felt. I never had the guts to tell her why I did not contact her for all those weeks and months and years. I never had the guts to be expressive and for once think about myself and do what I think is right. I always felt like a burden, a dead weight, an emotionless decrepit wreck that would only make matters worse. I believed I would be dragging her back down in the pit of despair from which she climbed out of.

But I’m not going to dwell in remorse and self-pity. Because, by doing so, would mean a great deal of disrespect for the memories. Instead I would take it as a life’s lesson; to take risks, be more expressive and return more love than I am actually getting.

Today, I am a different man, I am the sum of all of the previous experiences which have molded me for where I stand right now. I am on a path, a journey of self-development and exploration. It’s not easy for anyone. The experiences often break us and we seem to see no way out of our suffering but they are helping us get ready for something better or helping us cherish something a lot more in our lives.

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