so used to sleeping late, that i cant sleep now despite desperately needing to. today was good. not literally, for we were sick... but perhaps because after a whole painful morning, at least i got to spend the day with sire. we made The trip to the hospital, got tested for the dreaded flu, and are hopefully negative.. he's still been sick and i pray he ll be alright by tomorrow. im tired of being sick myself. its been 2 months of constant medicines and higher antibiotics, some or the other one after the other hope it ll all be over soon, and we ll be okie.
i suddenly found shanil's journal today... flipped through it after 4 long years.. and strangely felt nothing. its so weird how things change, that time makes us evolve, turns our life over and over until its a series of events meant to have been. i read and saw through the eyes of a grown woman today ... all i was.. all she was. two stupid young girls trying to walk into life, fretting on small things that seemed anything but small back then. pages of jargon... that was a heartload of pain years ago.. looked like pile of bullshit tonight. theres something so tragic about being children... when we think enormously of every event we fall into - big or small. because its new. because no one told us it would happen next. no one told us to expect the worst. no one told us why.
i ve hated myself for being a doormat so many years of my life.. until the summer of 2008, and i put myself to the exile i thought would ease my anger that piled up for all the long years. the self imposed exile it seemed, which was rather obviously otherwise forced. ts good in a way things happened that happened. sometimes its best to let go. we eventually fall into Something that heals us for once and for all. and then there are no more regrets. then there is no more suffering.
the whole shanil-episode seemed like a dream today. pretty much like it never happened. all that humiliation seems to have faded at last. all the blames. love is a strange thing. one night sire gently explained to me, the myth of the best-friend concept. . and i had realized how aptly it fit the situations in my entire life. people only care about what matters to them. and leave out all the rest. i dont regret anymore. i couldnt be the punching bag anymore; couldnt anymore spare my shoulder for them to fire guns. . and i could take no more blames. its true i still think of her and varun. . the 2 people i once trusted the most. the former who always tried to mother me, the latter i always mothered. . but then captive souls we were. lunatics in our own ways. and one world can never shelter more than one. now, thinking of them somehow always leaves me with a strange empty feeling which vanishes as fast as it erupts. i always knew i wasnt The people person.. i ve always had a variety of friends. . one completely opposite of the other... a set of strange vile people who're wonderful in themselves. but can in no way co-exist. and i guess i was tired of being the bridge. of being the bullet proof jacket.
they say shit happens.
but i realise how perfectly the single presence of one man altered my entire life. i understand now how dominant love is. . how happy it makes me to finally give, while being given even more in return. it somehow gives a whole new meaning to my dont-expect concept because with each passing day.. despite not expecting, i get more than the day past. and love was all i truly ever needed.
no more. and no less..
and the lord answered all my questions with sire.
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