‘Tell me about yourself,’ he says. And at first, I want to say 'Well, my favorite book is the thesaurus. I read it every day (the electronic version - at least - since it can be updated every minute). There’s a word of the day and I make it my mission to write something new every day. I can find definitions and antonyms and synonyms all in one place. It’s my favorite thing.’ But instead, I say 'I like to read and write, how about you?’
'Where do you want to go?’ He asks. And at first, I want to say 'Please, take me somewhere different this time. I never need to spend money with you. I’ll bring something from home for us to sit and eat in the back of your car with the sunroof up watching the stars. I want to tell you that September is my favorite month because it is my birthday and I know I’m biased, but I think that’s the month when everything around us aligns. I want to close my eyes and talk to your soul in the darkness with nothing but the faint light of a thousand stars illuminating us.’ But instead, I say 'I don’t know. Anything.’
'Stop acting like this.’ He demands. And at first, I want to say 'Can’t you see that I just want you to try harder? That I need you to love me the way you used to because I haven’t changed a single thing, yet you’ve demolished it all. I miss our fire, our heat, our passion, our comfort, our peace, our everything.’ But instead, I say 'Don’t call me, again.’
'I miss you,’ He admits. And at first, I want to say 'I miss you, too. My heart weeps at the sound of your name and I’d rearrange all of my organs to find enough space for another shot of disaster in me. I miss how touching your skin was all it took for me to create symphonies in your name and poems in your memory. I miss the taste of you. I know there won’t ever be a quick fix for me, for us, or for this.’ But instead, I say 'I know.’
1. When she opens her eyes in the morning, she will see sunlight peering through the mahogany stained shades. The sunlight will cascade down the bottom of your jaw and right between your closed eyes and she will - very briefly - wonder which one of us you’re dreaming about.
2. When she brews your coffee in the morning, she will add three spoons of sugar, instead of one and a half. It’s sweeter than the way I made it and you like it this way but you will get sick of it, eventually.
3. When she showers, you’ll fix your tie and your hair, and you’ll grab the briefcase on your way out before you leave. You’ll stop and turn your head down and to the right, staring into nothingness, wondering if she will sing the way I used to. If she will sing at all.
4. When you are at work, you’ll run your fingers over the corners of your desk, remembering every visit, every fight, and everything I’ve ever made you feel. You still have my love notes tucked in the back of the drawers in your desk.
5. When she comes home at night, she will find you on the roof and ask you why you’re there. And instead of climbing up there, like I would, she would tell you to come down. But she doesn’t know that it’s the only place you can think. She doesn’t know that it’s the landmark of your confusion. And how many nights have you sat on the roof since you left me, for her?
6. Tell her every childhood memory you have without mentioning me. See if you can work around me; if you can make me disappear from the happiest memories of your life. And when you go to bed that night, tell her that you love her. Tell her that you need her. Do not let her hear you call her by my name as you drift off to sleep.. like yesterday or the night before that.
7. Tell her I warned her about me. A love like this, a love like ours, would never die that easily.
The day inflates like lungs.
Exhale; lost my innocence.
Inhale; lost my honour.
Wisdom preaches: must you cast stones?
You became treacherous; I lost my innocence.
You became cunning; I lost my honour.
You showed me this path.
My desperation just walked on it.
You set the path on fire.
I had nowhere to run but doom.
As the day inflates like lungs.
Fate is etched.
With each exhale and inhale.
I will become the fire.
I will become all the pain.
You will dissolve into thin air.
You will burn into ashes.
As the day inflates like lungs.
What goes around, will come around.
When they burn all of your paths and leave you to walk the path of desperation and negativity // Hina Syeda
‘What’s the most embarrassing thing about you?’ you asked.
It was hard to just pick one. Sure, I was a little clumsy and yes I stuttered, but neither of those things seemed to be the right answer.
‘It’s the fact that I paint a picture of a black hollow heart when in reality it is whole and sensitive. It’s the fact that I go to sleep at night - a bitter agnostic - who still prays for the world to get better and for strangers to be happy.
The most embarrassing thing about me is that I pretend to be something I’m not and I still end up hurt in the process. How naive is that?
The first thought that goes through your head is, “Was I not good enough?”
“Was there something wrong with the way I loved?”
You’re filled with a blinding red rage that you can’t see through that is like the clatter of banging steel pots and pans, constantly asking him, “Why did you do this to me?”
When that rage settles, a sense of grief envelopes every fibre of your being.
You first notice it when he stops responding to your “I love you"s
Never fall in love with someone who has a history of cheating. You feel like you can change them, that your love will make them a better person, but you turn into just another notch in their belt, another woman he used and left on the side of the road, bleeding and broken.
You start blaming yourself for it. You start wondering why you were never enough. You stop trusting anyone who is trying to love you better, to give you what you deserve. Because you believe you deserved what happened to you.
I never wrote about this before because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of ruining me.
I was not surprised but I was highly disappointed.
I felt utterly lonely, like I was never meant to be loved and I told myself that there’s no point in crying because what’s done is done.
It’s been more than 6 months since that has happened, and I found myself in the arms of someone new. Someone who has held my hand and promised me the world and strives really hard to give me everything he can.
It does get better. The grief in your bones that filled you with an ache that made you feel like you’d swallowed poison, fades.